


Of Wounded Hearts

by BeMused (Hyperballad)



Category: Prometheus (2012), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Torture, Crossdressing, Inspired by Shutter Island, M/M, Mental Institutions, Penis Plug, Porn, Psychological Torture, Rape, Vibrator usage, Your daily dose of rape tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperballad/pseuds/BeMused
Summary: Sentenced to a far-flung psychiatric facility due to a slew of serial killings under his name, Charles Xavier thought it couldn't get any worse than this. However, while in supposed treatment, he began to notice disturbing things within its confines.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The woman appeared uncomfortable as she sat before him. It was obvious that she didn't want to be there. It was in the stiff way she positioned herself in her chair, hands clasped together upon her lap with her bag still slung over one shoulder. She kept looking at her wristwatch even though only a few minutes had passed into their conversation. She's a beautiful woman, with her dark auburn hair cut at shoulder length and her large, soft brown eyes matching well with her refined features. Despite the softness of her appearance, there's an unapologetic rigidity in her manner. Perhaps her pragmatic clothing and lack of makeup emphasized this.

"My friends opposed my coming here, but I just wanted to clear a few things up. That's why I accepted your invitation to this meeting. Charles and I, we're no longer living together. It's been a couple of years now. I don't know why he lied to everyone."

"Even so, you're still married to him. Isn't that the case?"

The woman rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, but I'm divorcing him. Honestly, he's the one forcing us to reconcile. He kept telling me he's a changed man; that he's going to get a big promotion and that we should get back together, but it's just not going to happen. I just couldn't do it. Especially not now, not after finding out the things he had done."

"How long were you married to him?"

"Ten years."

"Of the ten years you've been together, didn't you notice anything strange in his behavior?"

"If you're insinuating that I might have had some presentiment that my ex-husband's a serial killer, then no, I had no clue."

"I was thinking more on quirks, fetishes; trivial details that would have given us an inkling about his deviant behavior."

The woman seemed to consider her answer. "Well, don't you have anything odd about yourself, Doctor Weyland? We all have our little quirks."

Doctor David Weyland smiled faintly at that. For someone of his profession, he's a very attractive man. Nordic, with his Platinum blond hair and icy blue eyes; his excellent physique and chiseled features compel one to feel intimidated, but somehow, people still can't help but be drawn to him. There's something in his manner, his voice that was hypnotic. Only his quiet haughtiness pulls one back from becoming completely enamored with him. "Of course I do, but let's not make this about me. We're trying to understand why Charles Xavier committed these heinous crimes, Mrs. Xavier-"

The woman lifted her hand with an indignant gesture, eyes wide and looking offended. "Please don't call me that. I've already taken back my maiden name. Call me Moira MacTaggert!"

Doctor Weyland nodded in understanding. She didn't want to have any association with her estranged husband any longer. "Very well, I’m afraid we've digressed from the topic. Please, tell me anything on the subject of Mr. Xavier; anything you'd like to share. Every little detail counts."

"We all know he's a manipulative, lying bastard," Moira mumbled.

Doctor Weyland favored impartiality by remaining silent. He waited for Moira to continue. She sensed that the doctor was silently urging her to speak and so she began by telling him what she thought of her husband.

"I knew he had a mean streak in him, but I let those things slide because I loved him. He liked playing pranks on other people. He did it in such an underhanded way that no one caught on immediately, but I did."

"How did you know?"

"I've lived with him for years. I've seen it. He also liked bragging about it when we used to live together. He frequently schemed against his colleagues. People just didn't understand his sense of humor. He can be quite cruel, without letting everyone else notice that he was doing it."

Moira sighed. "During the last years of our marriage, it got worse. He had become so hateful, that the only thing he could talk about was how everyone else was beneath him. He also began to take drugs and sleep with other women around this time. He thought I didn't have a clue, but I did. A wife would know these things, you know? Whenever he's at home, he's either too drunk or too stoned to even hold a conversation with me. We'd always end up fighting. I couldn't take it anymore so I left him."

Doctor Weyland quirked an eyebrow. She had unwittingly eluded his initial query with her domestic woes and so he maneuvered her back into it.

"Under those circumstances, did you notice anything else that seemed unusual to you?"

"He didn't torture animals or do anything satanic, okay?" She snapped out.

The doctor kept his expression blank. He didn't want to provoke her by acknowledging her antagonism. Moira's brow furrowed as she suddenly remembered something. She looked up at him, but then she quickly looked away, her expression embarrassed. She had pushed this memory into the nether regions of her mind but nevertheless, she shared what she recalled of her husband even though the thought of it disgusted her.

"I discovered him once, wearing my underwear and coat along with my garter stockings. He even had my makeup on and he was talking to himself before the mirror in my dressing room. At that time, I found his behavior disturbing because he did it while he thought I was away. He...He did it like it was a sexual play or something. He was fondling himself."

Doctor Weyland narrowed his eyes at this. He didn't take any notes, but he listened attentively. He leaned over the table, holding Moira's gaze when she finally looked up.

"I hope you don't mind my asking this, but how was your sexual relationship with him?"

The question seemed to have rattled her. She shook slightly, biting down on her lower lip tightly and looking away.

"I don't have to answer that, do I?"

"Indeed, you don't have to answer my question, but at this instant, anything we could learn from Mr. Xavier's actions might help the authorities determine how long he has to stay in a psychiatric facility or if he'll even be fit to join society again. A deviant sexual behavior is the root of most psychopathic behaviors after all."

Moira bowed her head and grasped angrily at her thighs. She began to shake her head in negation. Her true feelings on the matter suddenly poured forth from her.

"I still can't believe it! I can't believe that he killed all those people and buried them in our home! We've been together for so long. I didn't think he'd be capable of doing something like this. It makes me wonder...if I even really knew him at all."

The doctor wisely remained silent, letting her vent. She looked up again and he could see the genuine anguish in her eyes. She eventually answered his question, although she did so haltingly.

"He...He hated kissing. He'd rather have...rough sex. I couldn't give him what he wanted so he turned to other women and I...and I let him. God! I was so stupid for putting up with him for all these years!"

Doctor Weyland didn't offer any sympathy. He maintained a professional stance, but she could see the compassion in his eyes. For this reason, she brought up an incident she had never shared with anyone before, somehow shocking the doctor with this revelation.

"He wasn't like this before. Seven years ago, our son David died and it hit Charles pretty hard. We were in a car accident. A truck crashed into our car from the back and David wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He...He went through the windshield. The impact killed our little boy. Charles blamed himself for it. It was an accident, but he couldn't let it go. That's when he changed."

"I see."Doctor Weyland said softly. Now it was his turn to look away and when he looked up, his expression had become grave.

"Thank you for sharing all this information, Miss MacTaggert. It certainly gave me an insight into Mr. Xavier's personality. It will help us determine what mode of therapy to approach him with."

"So is it true that Charles will be confined to a mental asylum?"

"The court has remanded him into our care because they've deemed him unfit to stand trial. Once we've established that he's of sound mind, there will be another hearing and from there, a judge could either issue a prison sentence or grant him freedom."

"They could do that? They could pardon him?"

"Yes, but he'll be closely monitored all his life."

"How long will he be in a mental asylum?"

"We don't exactly call it that anymore, Miss MacTaggert. We call it a psychiatric facility or a forensic mental hospital. To answer your question, that would depend on Mr. Xavier's willingness to accept treatment. It might take many years before he could even stand trial or perhaps he might not."

Moira nodded at this and then she began to ask questions about how to continue with the divorce procedures even with Charles' confinement. Doctor Weyland advised her of the process and after that, their conversation ended. As Moira prepared to leave, she gave the doctor one last look and smiled sadly.

"You have the same name as my son. Will you be treating Charles?"

Now it was Doctor Weyland's turn to hesitate. "I might assist his assigned psychiatrist from time to time, but I'll see to his care, of course!"

"Thank you, Doctor Weyland. I hope that you'll be able to help him."

The doctor responded with a brief nod and after seeing her out, he sat back in his chair. He slowly reached out and turned off a recorder he had hidden at his desk. His conversation with Moira was supposedly not meant for recounting because she did not give her consent. Nevertheless, he discretely recorded it. He smiled to himself as he rewound the recording to listen to it once more.

 

Later that day, he had another meeting with a former colleague of Charles Xavier at the temporary office set up by the court offices that employed his service. He would only be there until he had finished with the interviews and submitted his findings to complete the official ruling on Xavier's case. He wondered how Doctor McCoy was faring with Xavier. He had assigned Doctor Hank McCoy to become Charles' psychiatrist and the other had met up with their new patient while Xavier had been confined to a detention cell. However, he had not seen their patient by himself. Weyland only observed him from a distance. Once the proceedings were done, the authorities will take Xavier to his remote psychiatric and correctional facility, the Weyland Mental Institute.

"I knew him once as a respectable officer of the law, but he has become such an embarrassment to the force. We should have seen this coming a mile away, just from his self-destructive behavior!" Detective Inspector Scott Summers said as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious that Xavier's actions still rankled him.

Doctor Weyland assessed the man before him quietly, as he always does with anyone meeting him. The detective had on an impeccable brown suit, his reddish-brown hair combed back and parted to the side. Whereas Moira had soft features, Detective Summers had a somewhat sharp handsomeness about him. The cleft chin and the jutting cheekbones did it for him, toned down by a lush lower lip. Perhaps the one odd thing the doctor noted of the other is that he kept his tinted glasses on even though he is indoors. He could tell, just by looking at the detective that he's an abrupt man; that he's self-righteous and supercilious. Most officers he had met had the same demeanor. Perhaps this was due to their line of work.

"When did you start noticing that Mr. Xavier behaved in a self-destructive way?"

Detective Summers smoothed the back of his head thoughtfully. "The way he acts at the office; always getting into an argument with one officer or another because of his bigotry and homophobic ideas. He bullied the younger officers and he liked making snarky comments that no one seemed to understand. He's always late and sometimes, he reeked of alcohol. He liked picking on me, but I didn't stoop to his level."

Doctor Weyland pretended to scribble something in his notes as the detective continued to talk. He found Xavier's homophobia of note because it went against the confession Moira shared with him about the other's cross-dressing.

"Everyone in our division hated him. I used to pity him for that, but when I think on how he lied to us all these years, I can't bring myself to feel anything but anger towards him now. He's an officer for Christ's sake and yet he did those things right under our noses!"

Maintaining his rule of impartiality, Doctor Weyland kept his silence as the other spoke heatedly of his former colleague. Of course, Xavier's peers would feel this way about him. He committed all these atrocities and got away with it for a very long time. He only got caught because he butchered his own drug dealer, whom the Drug squad had been tailing.

He had read the police file on Xavier. A tip came through that he was in a scuffle with the murder victim, a known drug dealer, over baggies of crack cocaine at the victim's dwelling: an abandoned factory near the outskirts of the city. Xavier left a most compelling evidence that placed him at the scene of the crime. His blood.  The dealer was a member of a street gang under his protection. He and the dealer had a dispute over the payment, ending up in a fistfight, with his blood staining the other's knuckles based on the forensic team's findings. From there, they deduced that Xavier thoroughly eviscerated his supplier after the other failed to give him his drugs. It was brought to Weyland's knowledge that the authorities arrested Xavier at a brothel while in a bondage play with one of the whores. The police later found the murder weapon in Xavier's residence after they arrested him and acquired a warrant to search his home.  That was when they made another horrific discovery. The body parts of Xavier's unknown victims. Xavier furiously denied all allegations, but the proof was simply too incontestable. 

"Mr. Xavier didn't have any friends in your division?"

"He used to have friends, but they quit hanging with him because of his attitude."

"I know you aren't close to Mr. Xavier, but could you tell me if he had any quirks or peculiarities that you noticed? Anything that could have warned us of his psychopathy?"

The detective shook his head. "No, nothing unusual. Then again, people like him exist in our society. They may seem normal on the outside, but we don't know how deep their craziness runs until they snap or until they're caught."

Doctor Weyland nodded in agreement. After he wrapped up with the detective, he met up with Xavier's other colleagues, but he received the same answer. They all consider Xavier a scheming misanthrope, a homophobe, and a compulsive liar. They all reacted with indignation and antipathy. However, they didn't think he'd become a serial killer. No one had seen that coming. Charles Xavier was a man spiraling out of control, but anyone who knew him didn't think of him as a psychopath. He wondered upon Xavier's thoughts on the matter. Sooner or later, their paths will cross and perhaps by then, he'd eke out the answer from him.

 

"He denies everything. He claims someone is framing him. He said he only got into a row with his dealer and then they had a punching match, but he didn't kill the man. He said someone planted the murder weapons in his house and buried the body parts around his yard. "Hank McCoy said as he shared his notes with Doctor Weyland during their meeting.

"Based on the evaluation and the clinical records sent by his previous psychiatrist, he's a lucid and rational person. I've confirmed this when I spoke to him, but I'm going to quote his previous psychiatrist on this. He's hung up on this embellished persecution story of his. He's in denial of his actions and prone to an impulsive behavior that it renders an inconclusive profiling."

He looked up from the case file he's reading about Charles Xavier and he saw Doctor Weyland smiling faintly as if something amused him. He had a dreamy, far away look in his eyes. It made Hank McCoy wonder why Weyland got into this business in the first place. With his wealth and movie-star good looks, he could have pursued a different field.

"What?" Hank said when their gazes met.

"I can't wait to meet our new patient! He's a truly intriguing case! I've never felt such excitement as this!"

Hank McCoy shook his head wanly. "You’re a strange man, Weyland."

"Speak for yourself. I know you're itching to get back to Genosha, but don't worry. Azazel has everything under control. I've spoken to him over the phone."

Hank frowned slightly at that and then he looked away. "As long as things go our way, I'll do everything you tell me to do."

Weyland became subdued. "Have I ever failed you, Hank?"

Hank turned his gaze back towards the other. "No, you haven't. You've given me exactly what I've asked for. It's just that, things are going all too well. I don't want us to become complacent."

"Then let us not speak of these matters here. We're not in Genosha yet."

"Alright then. Let's change the topic. I've received a recent report that Xavier bit his own attorney's ear off. He said that the other wasn't doing a good enough job of defending him. It even took six guards to restrain him."

Weyland chuckled delightedly at this news. "He’s digging his own grave!"

"He wasn't a stable man, to begin with," Hank said wryly.

"It will be all the more fun to pick at his brains. Don't you think so?"

Clearing his throat and ignoring his superior's morbid enthusiasm over their new patient, Hank read the case files thoroughly. After they've finished running through the data, Hank informed Weyland of the preparations for Xavier's transfer. As much as he had shown such excitement over Xavier, Weyland informed Hank that he will not be introducing himself until the crucial moment arrives. Hank just shrugged it off. It was Weyland's game anyway.

 

"On your feet, asshole! I haven't got all day!" The officer shouted at him while kicking his thigh, waking Charles Xavier from his slumber.

He'd had a rough night, sleeping on the cold floor of the blue ferry-boat, ironically named MV Deliverance and he was in a foul mood. The court issued its ruling and handed him into the care of the mental institute until he's declared fit to stand trial. He thought that he would eventually clear his name, but after months of confinement in prison, wherein they only allowed him to go out during his court hearings, he lost the case. Humiliated and stripped of everything, the current judge saw fit to incarcerate him into the worst possible hellhole. Weyland Mental Institute is a high security psychiatric and correctional facility sitting on the remote island of Genosha. Due to its isolated location, no one has ever escaped its confines.

He glared at the young officer for kicking him, but that didn't intimidate the other. The officer just wanted to hurry the proceedings further and so he reached for Charles' collar, hauling him up off his ass. The handcuffs that restrained Charles clinked noisily because the officer forced him to move faster.

The officer rushed him along the gangway, nearly causing Charles to trip on his feet. The handcuffs came with leg restraints, attached to a long chain and it hindered his movements. He had maintained a subdued conduct all this time, as he was in a bewildered stupor over his current lot, but he's had enough.

To avenge himself for his mistreatment, he took this moment to hack out a copious amount of saliva and then he let the other have it. He spat in the man's face. The officer uttered a cry of disgust, wiping away furiously at Charles' spittle. The other officer bellowed his warning a little too late and was running towards them.

Charles didn't care anymore. He uttered a jeering laugh and then he jauntily lifted his handcuffed hands. He formed a rectangle with his fingers as if he was miming the shape of a camera. He closed one eye, pretending to get his invisible camera into focus and then he made a clicking noise with his tongue as he pressed an imaginary button.

"If I had a camera, I would've taken a picture of your fucking cunt face. Then I'd have something to give the nutters in Weyland to wank about,"

Along with the other officer with him, the officer Charles spat upon punched him into submission for what he had done. The guards at the docks watched impassively as Charles took his beating. They didn't want to get involved. Moreover, their superior was watching their lively new resident from a silvery car, some distance away from the docks. They didn't dare interfere.

 

Sure enough, David Weyland gazed at the commotion below through gold-rimmed binoculars while sitting in the back of a silver Lincoln Continental, a snide grin upon his lips.

"Same arrogant bastard, as always."He murmured quietly. No one, not even Charles Xavier knew who David Weyland truly is. They once shared a fleeting, yet dark past, but because of his insignificance to Xavier, the other wouldn't even remember him. He wanted to keep it that way.

He brought the binoculars down and ordered his driver to head back to the institute. The driver complied wordlessly, starting up the car and preparing to leave. Weyland pressed a button on the panel by the door and the car window rolled up with a muted whirring noise. His ruthless stare still lingered towards his oblivious captive even though the other was too far off to see. He caught a glimpse of his own chilling gaze, reflected upon the window and it startled him to see that his deep hatred for the other was still etched upon his face. He sat up straight and smiled coldly. He had such plans for Xavier that he could barely contain himself.

When he arrived at the institute, he went straight into his office and accessed the security camera feed of the entire institute. He has a direct access to the institute's centralized security system and he has full control of its function from his computer. He watched as the guards brought Xavier into the infirmary where an orderly gave him some treatment for his bruises and his wounds caused by his beating. Another orderly picked him up and led him into one of the lavatories to change into the Institute's standard gray uniform for high-risk patients. Weyland followed the other's every move. At one point, Xavier looked directly at one of the cameras, finally sensing its presence as he walked along one of the long hallways of the facility while a guard and an orderly walked with him towards the Counseling Area.

He watched as Xavier sat in one of the gray cubicles that only had metal chairs and a desk, the entire cubicle confined within a cage of wire mesh steel. With access to even the cameras within the cubicle, Weyland zoomed in on Xavier's face. Had he shaved and cut his wavy brown hair neatly, he would have been a handsome man, but Weyland could see that living a life of revelries had already taken its toll. Xavier looked seedy, haggard around the eyes and brutish; he looked more like a pimp than a former officer of the law. He clearly saw Xavier's apprehension, as well as the other's attempts to hide it by feigning a bored expression. Moments later, Hank McCoy entered the cubicle and spoke to Xavier. Weyland listened in on their discussion and he found it laughable that Xavier pretended to act cool and unaffected. After his assessment with Hank, the same guard and orderly led Xavier into his glass cell.

The institute has much to boast of its advanced security system. Each glass cell in the high-security wing has a reinforced glass paneling and an automated sliding door, the interior was meant to prevent self-harm; with bolted beds, rounded shelves, a circular sink made of steel and a toilet. Parts of the room even had padded edges. Hidden cameras were also installed in all the cells. Weyland used the camera feed and watched as Xavier looked around his room.

With no one guarding him, Xavier's expression finally decayed into desperation and anxiety. He slumped down on to the floor, clutching his head with both hands. Weyland knew one thing about Xavier. With his freedom and his iniquities gone, he'll begin to break down soon enough. Xavier had already gone through his cocaine withdrawal in prison, but he had other vices that he'll sorely miss. Now that he's in the institute, he has no access to cigarettes, women or liquor. Weyland didn't even have any women on his staff. Weyland had made it this way so that Xavier would endure even more suffering. After all, he was just one of the many Charles Xavier had gravely sinned against and now the day of reckoning has finally come.


	2. Chapter 2

   
  
There's something seriously disturbing about this place. That had been Charles' gut feeling the moment he set foot on Genosha. Because he was formerly an officer of the law, he had been to other mental institutions before while pursuing cases. He had previously worked with psychiatrists and criminal profilers so he knew the workings of such places. He couldn't understand why the government would allow this institute to continue operating the way it does. For one thing, its isolation poses a danger to its patients due to a lack of supervision by the local bureaucracy or even social advocates. Although the institute does have policemen on its staff, these men could abuse their power at any given moment. Weyland must know people high up in the ranks to have pulled this off. Otherwise, he must be running such a tight ship that the government allowed the institute free rein to do whatever it wants.  
  
Speaking of which, he had not come face to face with the director of the institute yet. He'd seen the man from time to time, but only from afar. While taking a stroll in the exercise yard one day, he saw Weyland, in his severe, military-style gray suit, walking alone in the garden, hands clasped at his lower back. There's no mistaking the director's pale blond head and tall stature. He'd seen a portrait of the man along with an aged portrait of the institute's deceased founder, hanging on a high wall lined with plaques of recognition and framed certificates in the reception area. Even from a painting, he could see the other as a very handsome, yet cold fish of a fellow. The director gazed back at him bluntly, but he did not acknowledge Charles' presence. He just stared on until Charles' orderly led him away. Then, a few weeks after, he saw the man walking in the opposite corridor through a passageway made of reinforced glass. Weyland was closely followed by his assistant director, Azazel, quietly discussing something with the other. Upon seeing him, the director gave him the same unwavering, silent stare from before that it unnerved Charles.  
  
That was the least of his worries, though. His lack of interaction with the other patients had begun to bother him. He did see some patients occasionally, but he wasn't allowed to talk to them. They attended their own therapy classes, sessions with other resident psychiatrists or went about their daily chores like gardening and cleaning. This was because of his assigned orderly, Victor Creed. A dour-faced, beefy hulk of a man, styling himself with weird mutton chops upon his cheeks and a buzz cut. He could break Charles in two if he wanted to, should Charles decide to act with defiance. He followed Charles around silently, only giving brief instructions when needed, but he never got into a conversation with him. He wasn't singled out with this type of supervision. Some had personal orderlies assigned to them, while others go about in groups. Whenever a patient got too close to them, Creed would haul Charles out of the way. Charles couldn't understand why. Besides, the other patients seemed doped up, or what one would call chemically restrained. Charles could see it in their vacant stares and sluggish movements. He received his medication same as the rest, but he didn't feel any strange side-effects. He had asked Doctor McCoy about it, but the other only informed him that all patients have different dosages given to them. Charles didn't really buy it. Nevertheless, he didn't question them about it any further. He was just thankful that his mental faculties were still intact. Hank eventually explained away Creed's reason for segregating him.  
  
"As much as possible, we want to avoid confrontations between patients. Obviously, you're new here so you'll never know what may trigger any of them. We've had patients attacking orderlies and other patients for inexplicable reasons. They can be quite violent even with the heavy medication we've put them on and I'm not saying this to frighten you, Charles, but we've had incidents of murder and cannibalism happening right before our eyes just because one patient looked at another the wrong way."  
  
Charles swallowed thickly at that. It made him wonder how Doctor McCoy could even endure these things. Hank McCoy seemed like a timid man. Like Charles, he has dark brown hair and blue eyes. They are both pale-skinned, but their similarities end there. Charles has a smaller stature than Hank, but he'd like to think he's tougher than the other. He'd been with the police force for more than ten years. He knew how to defend himself. Still, dealing with a bedlamite is a different matter altogether.  
  
"Don't you have any normal patients around? Someone similar to me that I can talk to?"  
  
Doctor McCoy shook his head slowly."Charles, do you know where you are? Weyland's Institute harbors the most dangerous criminal patients of the entire state. I'm sure you've wondered why we can carry on as an institute despite operating as a private entity. Because of Weyland's isolation, none of these patients can escape this place. There aren't any 'normal' patients here."  
  
That certainly stunned Charles. In that case, he's also considered extremely dangerous. That's why the court relegated him to this institute's care. He suddenly narrowed his eyes at Doctor McCoy.  
  
"How come I'm treated differently then? Why are you talking to me like I'm someone sane if you've got me pegged like the rest of them?"  
  
The doctor grimaced painfully before answering, as if he tasted something awful in his mouth."Director Weyland and I discussed your case and we're in agreement that you function logically, that's why you've gone this long without getting caught. From what we've learned of your psychopathy, you don't go about murdering openly. You prefer discretion. You're not driven by violent compulsions unless it threatens your psyche."  
  
"Doc, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm innocent! I didn't do those things the police are accusing me of. Sure, I'm an asshole and a bad cop, but I'm not a serial killer!"

The doctor seemed to consider his words carefully, unfazed by Charles' denial."You're a former professional and notably, you were in law enforcement. For a length of time, you have displayed socially acceptable behavior patterns. Owing to this, you know how to manage any behavior deemed severely antisocial and therefore, you do not follow the traditional characteristics of someone mentally ill."  


That's as good as saying that he truly is a psychopath. As they walked upon one of the institute's sprawling gardens, Creed followed them. As was his wont, Creed remained taciturn. Only his sharp eyes flickered from the doctor then back to Charles as they talked. Charles knew that if he tried anything with the doctor, Creed would knock him down.

Charles was conscious of his presence but chose to ignore him. Creed was somewhat tame compared to the guards of the institute. The guards were policemen stationed on this remote island to maintain the peace. However, Charles had witnessed their brutality when a particular inmate got rowdy. The man lay bleeding and unconscious after they were through with him. No one even came to help until the orderlies finally pitied the rowdy patient and picked him up, taking him to the infirmary. Charles wondered if the man had already died. He had not seen that man since then. That incident unsettled him, along with an encounter with the meanest of the bunch, Officer Sebastian Shaw. The man has an upturned nose and expressionless eyes, but he was a tough looking son of a bitch. He was always wearing the standard uniform of an officer. He even had his peaked cap on at all times. When Charles arrived at the institute, he had a guard and a different orderly following him around. His guard had been Shaw. As Charles walked on, he studied his surroundings. He thought it might come in handy if he knew the layout of the place. Then he suddenly felt Shaw's cold breath as the other spoke in a low voice into his ear.  
  
"Don't bother scoping out the perimeter. I know what you're thinking of, Mr. Xavier. Others before you have done the same thing. If you make a break for it, I'll hunt you down like the cowardly fuck you are and rip your guts open!"  
  
Charles tried to say some sarcastic comeback, but when he turned to face Shaw the other sneered at him, eyeing him with an insane gleam in his eyes, seeming to challenge him. Charles vaguely wondered if the other had gone off his trolley from staying in this nuthatch for too long. Charles realized he was no longer a cop. He couldn't throw his weight around like he used to. He has no power here. He didn't want to make any waves until he understood his predicament so he remained silent instead. Shaw grinned at him knowingly and allowed him to walk ahead. Just breathing in the same air Shaw breathes made him feel ill. Hank McCoy suddenly brought him back from his disturbing reveries.  
  
"Charles, we both know that the evidence speaks for itself. You're a former officer. Surely, you can assess the situation, can't you?"  
  
Sighing wearily, Charles nodded in surrender. He didn't bother to argue. He knew he'll be locked up here for a very long time. The law deemed to confine him to this remote madhouse for an indefinite period. He could remain here for up to thirty years or more, depending on how soon his case gets reviewed once doctors declare him fit to stand trial. Then there's the prison sentence he has yet to face if he ever gets out of here. He clearly understood his position. The judicial system wasn't known for its promptness after all. Some people might even think that this was a good thing for him, that he must've used the insanity plea as a bargaining chip, but what people failed to realize is that those sentenced due to a psychopathic rampage lose more freedom than those sent to a maximum security prison. High-security mental facilities are far worse than a regular psych facility. Frequent situations of forced medication do occur and for the ungodly terrors who kill people for the thrill of it, solitary confinement that could last a lifetime. He hoped the latter wouldn't happen to him. He knew when he arrived here, he had acted willfully, but when he came out of the infirmary on that first day, he realized he's in uncharted territory. He decided to tread carefully if he was to ever escape this place. Right now, he had to confirm something with Hank. He stopped walking for a moment, prompting Hank to stop as well.  
  
"Has anyone ever left this institute after they're declared cured?"  
  
Unflinchingly, Hank answered his question straightaway."No inmate has left this institute yet, Charles. Not since I started here."  
  
That sent a dull thud within Charles' chest. Just as he thought. The reason Weyland Mental Institute endured was that it was a hole, specifically for people too insane for society's acceptance. That's why all the patients were heavily medicated. That's why the guards were openly brutal towards the inmates and that's why Weyland couldn't care less for pleasantries.  
  
"Then what's the point of this? Why medicate and treat us at all?"  
  
"Doctor Weyland's grandfather built this institute with a credo, based on the speech of a Japanese emperor to his people after America dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during the Second World War. 'Endure the unendurable and suffer what is not sufferable.' If you think about it, the patients here are like walking time bombs. No one would want to be around when such a bomb goes off, isn't that right? Still, the patients here are human beings, deserving a quality of life regardless of any unspeakable acts committed."  
  
"That all sounds noble, but I hardly see that credo applied towards us patients."  
  
"The credo wasn't meant for the patients. It's for their keepers. Despite the constant danger and the isolation, we endure and give treatment to patients beyond recovery. We subdue and control the belligerent ones for their own good. If you continue cooperating like what you're doing now, you'll keep experiencing this quality I'm talking about."  
  
Charles stopped for a moment. True enough, he did receive a somewhat decent treatment since he had been here. He's free to roam about, provided that he had his assigned orderly with him. They fed and clothed him, they allowed him to read books and watch TV. They had him attending sessions with Doctor McCoy and he was also allowed to attend Therapy classes even though he was the only student attending the class. However, the downside is that he was beginning to get bored. Every day was monotonous. A breakdown of his schedule goes as follows: Creed wakes him up at six am, serves him his breakfast in his glass cell, take him to an isolated bathing area for his grooming and bathing needs. Then, he goes for walks in the garden, read books in the library and watch pre-recorded reruns stripped of its violent content and after that, lunch and then he gets to attend his therapy classes and sessions with Doctor McCoy and once those are done, he eats dinner by himself in his cell and then its lights out at six pm. It was the same thing, day after day and this has been going on for months. He wasn't crazy to begin with, but he sure as hell would go insane if he had to endure this for any longer. He had to find a way out.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, Doctor McCoy."  
  
Doctor McCoy nodded in acknowledgment and then he looked down at his watch."Good. I think it's almost close to dinnertime. Why don't we head on back to the institute?"  
  
"Yes, of course, but can I make a request?"Charles said, an idea taking form within his mind.  
  
"What is it, Charles?"  
  
"Can I eat dinner with you? It gets boring in my cell. I need something to break the monotony."  
  
McCoy seemed to consider Charles' request and after a moment's pause, he finally nodded."Yes, you can join me for supper. I eat at the residents' dining hall. I'm sure Doctor Weyland would give us an exception since you've been such a model patient."  
  
Startled by the doctor's generosity, Charles gave the other his most sincere smile. He didn't expect that, but he did have the strangest feeling that Hank would grant his request. Hank seemed to give him some preferential treatment over any of the other patients.  He had thought that the doctor would join him in the exercise yard or in the counseling area and this was more than what he had anticipated. They walked together towards the dining hall, with Creed trailing after them. Even here, the facility appeared well-maintained. It's as if he entered an opulent restaurant, with the windows draped in red and white curtains and the tables laid out with pure white tablecloths. He did notice that the cutlery wasn't just laid out, but given along with the meals. He saw psychiatrists and head orderlies dining in groups or upon single tables. Surprisingly, the food was quite good at Weyland's Institute, because he eats the same meal served to these doctors. The only difference is that they get to choose which variety, whereas he only gets to eat what they decide he should eat. He saw one orderly eating the same Steak and Kidney pie he ate from yesterday's menu. He sat down with Hank McCoy while Creed sat at a different table by himself. A waiter even came over to get their order. It was that swanky.  
  
"Evenin', doctor! What'll you gents be havin' tonight?"The waiter asked familiarly. The waiter did not even remark upon the presence of a patient in the dining hall. Charles did receive some stares from the other doctors, but they immediately ignored him afterward.  
  
"Beef Stroganoff with chive noodles and sour cream. What do you want to eat, Charles?"  
  
"Is it okay for me to eat here with you? I'm not breaking some rule am I?"Charles said apprehensively, smoothing down his short, ginger beard along with his hair and feeling self-conscious.  
  
"Not at all! We've had patients come in here if they're very good. I did tell you—you're an exception."  
  
Charles turned to look up at the waiter."Then I'd like a Reuben Sandwich and a beer."  
  
The waiter shook his head."Afraid we don't serve alcohol in this facility, Sir. Can you ask for something else?"  
  
"We'll both have a glass of lemonade each. Thank you, Jason!"McCoy quickly interjected. The sprightly waiter gave them a quick smile and left. Charles looked about the place in wonder. He turned towards Hank and asked him the question that was on his mind.  
  
"How did you get all these? This place is just fancy!"  
  
Hank smiled."As you well know, we doctors also reside on this island, same as you. We have our own residence elsewhere and we have our own organic farms and grocers on the island. Of course, the director himself has a mansion here. He owns this island after all. Occasionally, we have our supply ship bring in amenities we don't have as well as correspondence for the Institute."  
  
Charles' ears pricked up at that. He intended to ask doctor McCoy more questions when he noticed someone staring at him. It was Weyland. Weyland was sitting at a single diner's table, about ready to finish his meal. Charles flinched and then he gave Doctor McCoy a warning look, gesturing towards Weyland.  
  
Before McCoy could say anything, their waiter came back with their food and then the waiter cheerfully wished for them to enjoy their meal. Nervously, Charles reached for his knife and fork. His brow wrinkled when he realized that the waiter gave him fake cutlery. It was made of plastic, colored in silver. Hank was even using the same thing. Yet another bizarre observation that confounded him. Charles' mouth had suddenly gone dry that he wasn't sure if he could still eat his sandwich. The director's intimidating stare always seemed to get to him.  
  
"Oh don't mind him. The director might seem a bit stiff, but he's very approachable."Hank said in a low voice and then he lifted a hand to get the director's attention, waving the other over. Weyland smiled faintly, wiping at his mouth carefully with a table napkin and then he stood up. He walked over to them and Charles finally got a closer look at the man.  
  
The director looked like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. Broad-shouldered and slightly muscular, wearing a black suit this time. He almost looked surreal, with his blond hair and steel-blue eyes standing out starkly in a room full of equally well-dressed men. Was it possible for a man to become this good looking? Charles had never felt envious over another man's appearance before, but today would be the first. There's another reason to be envious towards the director. Weyland has everything, while he has nothing. He was once a man of power and so he could recognize another man's self-important posturing. He felt insignificant before the director and yet, he could not shake the feeling that Weyland was staring at him with some barely concealed hatred. Perhaps it was due to the other's arrogant expression. Weyland gave Doctor McCoy a curt nod.  
  
"Doctor McCoy. I see you've invited our new patient over for dinner."  
  
"Yes, I've done so because he's well-behaved. We were just about to eat. Care to join us?"  
  
"No, thank you. I've already had my meal. Please, do enjoy yours, gentlemen!"The friendly entreaty issuing forth from Weyland's lips did not match the cold stare emanating from his eyes as he regarded Charles.  
  
"Wait! I wanted to ask, when will the next supply ship come around? I need my personal supplies delivered as soon as possible!"  
  
"Why the rush? Is it because of your pet?"Weyland said, sounding amused.  
  
Hank McCoy suddenly seemed flustered. He actually stuttered his response."Y-Yes."  
  
Weyland kept his eyes on Charles, but his response was for McCoy."It will come in a week. I'll let my contact know."  
  
With that, Weyland gave a parting wave of his hand and left them. Only then did Hank seem to notice Charles' uneasiness.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
Charles shook his head slowly."I don't know. I just have this weird feeling that the director hates me."  
  
Hank scoffed at that."He just looks that way! Give it time. As long as you keep up your good behavior, you have nothing to worry about."  
  
"Alright. So what's this about a pet? What is it? A cat or a dog?"  
  
Hank smiled sheepishly."You could say it's an exotic animal. A rather rare and exotic bird."  
  
"That's nice. I'd like to see a picture of it sometime."  
  
 "We'll see,"Hank said evasively and then they ate their meal. When they finished, Creed had also finished his own meal.  
  
Creed walked with Charles back into the patient's wards. Usually, they walked past the general psych ward before entering the high-security wing where Charles' cell block is. While passing through the same area, Charles noticed a guard bopping his head repeatedly while standing against a wall. At first, Charles thought the guy was listening to some heavy metal music using some earphones, but when they drew closer, the guard didn't have any earphones on at all. He didn't even have a blue tooth headset. The guard's expression was vacant and he was mumbling incoherently to himself. He was sweating and feverish, his head-bopping looking more like an epileptic fit as he stood there.  
  
 Charles couldn't help it when he stopped walking. He gawked after the guard in disbelief. He wanted to ask his orderly, Mr. Creed if the head-bopping bloke was okay, but at that crucial moment, Shaw stepped out of a door and saw his colleague in this state of apoplexy. Shaw immediately went towards the man and struck him hard, causing the other to collapse onto the floor, unconscious. Shaw noticed Charles' shock and then he narrowed his eyes at Charles.  
  
"Nothing to see here. Best you go and mind your own business."  
  
He didn't need Shaw telling him off twice. He hurried after his orderly because the other had already walked ahead of him. However, Charles couldn't help throwing a parting glance towards the guard and Shaw. Two uniformed men suddenly appeared and they began to carry the guard away. Charles jumped slightly in shock when he saw Shaw staring at him menacingly instead of seeing to his colleague. Charles looked away and quickened his pace. What he saw disturbed him, but there must be a reasonable explanation for it. Perhaps the guard had a fever or epilepsy, but why did Shaw have to strike him like that?  
  
Charles didn't want to draw Shaw's unwanted attention so he didn't think on what he saw for very long. Besides, he had other disturbing things to worry about. For one thing, he noticed that he wasn't like the other patients. Most, if not all the patients he noticed while passing their glass cells within his cell block's area appeared catatonic. Either they had their backs turned towards the glass cell's door, sitting in a chair or they would be lying in bed, motionless. He didn't even hear any noise from them. It was very odd. He'd lie down at night and listen for a sigh or even a scream of terror, but he heard nothing. The silence perturbed him more than the din one would usually associate with a bedlam. He wondered if perhaps the other patients were too medicated. It made him want to leave the institute immediately. He had thought that it would take a long time before he could find a means to escape this place, but somehow lady luck was on his side. Because coincidentally, with the supply boat arriving next week, he found a means to make his escape.


	3. Chapter 3

   
  
He wouldn't have found a way to escape if not for the circumstances that made it so. He had some help. The night of his liberation, a storm had come rolling in over the island. The supply boat barely made it into the docks. Charles didn't have any knowledge of this until Sean Cassidy had informed him. Sean was the inmate living next to his cell. They had never spoken before. Charles didn't even hear so much as a peep from the other, but surprisingly, Sean finally made his presence known. This was after lights out. Charles was lying in bed, staring off into space. His only illumination was the muted blue night light above the panel of his headboard. There wasn't much he could do anyway with the lights turned off, but then, a sudden scraping noise from outside his glass cell caught his attention. He sat up in bed, staring at the distorted shape of a shadow looming close to his cell. He thought it was just a guard or an orderly making their rounds and then to his shock, someone with an unruly mop of red hair, wearing an inmate's gray overalls shambled right before him, the other grinning maniacally. For a moment, he thought a guard or an orderly would suddenly come into the picture, but evidently, the inmate got out by himself.  
  
"What the fuck-"Charles muttered under his breath, eyes wide and disbelieving.  
  
"Hey, you got any shoes? Can you give 'em to me? Guards hid mine someplace,"The man said sibilantly.  
  
Charles was speechless at first. How the hell did this red-headed bastard get out of his cell? He carefully got up from the bed and walked over to the reinforced glass wall, staring at the other in a state of utter bewilderment. He answered the other's question with a question of his own.  
  
"How the hell did you get out?"  
  
The man began to giggle uncontrollably. Then, suddenly realizing he was too loud, he clamped a hand over his own mouth and looked around warily, albeit with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes. When he was sure that there aren't any guards coming, the man stood up straight and put a finger to his lips, his crazed grin back on his face.  
  
"Don't you know? Lil' flash of lightning trips up the electrical in this place. Knocks the cameras off as well. Why don't you try opening the door by yourself?"  
  
"Are you fucking with me right now?"Charles blurted out, boggled out of his mind that it was that easy. Just to discount the man's claims, he attempted to turn the handle of the glass door and sure enough, the gears of the sliding door slid upon its rollers and opened up for him. The crash of thunder and lightning covered up the ruckus. This caused Charles' heart to leap with hope, but then it quickly died down when he realized it was futile. He stepped outside of his cell and scrutinized the narrow passage suspiciously, the lights flickering due to the electrical surge. He was suddenly aware of the man's presence and wondered if the other would flip out on him, remembering Hank's warning of murder and cannibalism. The man had that deranged gleam in his eyes, but his attention wasn't even on Charles. He was looking into Charles' cell for another pair of shoes.  
  
"Shoes?"  
  
Charles did have a spare pair. He quickly went back into his cell and grabbed the rubber shoes from under his bed. He gave it to the other.  
  
"Who are you?" Charles asked.  
  
"Sean Cassidy. They had me in for being a firebug. Been here five years, man. I gotta make a break for it 'cause this is the only chance I'll get!" Sean said as he hunkered down to put the shoes on. The shoes fit him perfectly because he has the same build as Charles.  
  
"How are you going to escape from here? We're on a remote island!"Charles said tightly.  
  
"Their supply boat's in the docks tonight. I heard the guards talking about it. I'm gonna take my chance and steal the boat. You wanna come with me?"  
  
"We can't escape from here. It's impossible! They'll come after us! They have guards at the docks who'll gun us down if we try!"  
  
Sean made a scoffing noise. He began to tap a finger at his temple."Heh! They drug me up all the time, but that doesn't mean my mind's not working! I heard 'em guards talking. They don't have any boats to spare to come after us. Only one boat comes in and one boat comes out. They did this to prevent anyone from leaving and that includes the employees. As for the guards, with this fucking downpour, do you think they'll see a couple of rats like us sneaking out?"  
  
What Sean said seemed to make sense to Charles, but who in their right mind would trust the company of a lunatic? He certainly didn't trust the other, not one bit. Even so, that doesn't mean he couldn't use Sean to make a break for it.  Charles thought that he was the only normal person to ever enter this place and he still maintained this mentality. He didn't belong here. If Sean tried anything with him, he could beat the other up. He was a former cop after all. Surely he didn't lose the set of skills he had learned all these years. He made the decision to let Sean lead the way. It was now or never. Since Sean was in the institute longer than him, the other knew more about the passages they could get into without getting caught.  
  
"They used to have an additional wing, but they closed it off 'cause it was starting to look run-down. If we go through there, we won't run into any guards and even if the electrical stabilizes, there wouldn't be any cameras following our every move."  
  
"How did you know that?"  
  
Sean shrugged."They bricked that area over. It was the year I got locked up so I knew. Say, what you in for anyway?"  
  
"I killed some people."Charles murmured, refusing to elaborate further. Sean chuckled at that.  
  
"Man, you must have done something really bad to 'em! They wouldn't have locked you here in Weyland if it wasn't some crazy shit."  
  
Charles didn't bother explaining that he was innocent. No one would believe him anyway, not even this crazy fucker."Well, what about you?"  
  
"Me? I also got some people killed because I burned houses down; roasted 'em alive until their screams died away. Hey, did you know? People scream funny when they burn. They sound like squealing pigs."  
  
Charles grew quiet, disturbed by this nasty tidbit Sean shared with him as they walked through the abandoned wing, with its exposed pipes and dusty, cob-webbed passageways. Rats and insects scampered out of their way, restless because of the sudden presence of intruders in their abode. Charles and Sean's eyes slowly became accustomed to the dark, with the lightning from outside lighting their way briefly as it seeped through the cracks of the boarded windows. Charles was sweating profusely, his heart hammering due to his excitement over the possibility of escape. They eventually made their way outside the institute, on to an entryway that was also boarded shut, its facade covered over with some flimsy brickwork that Charles and Sean easily broke through. The smell of damp earth and the night air somehow invigorated Charles. This was the smell of freedom. Watching out for any guards patrolling the area, he and Sean ducked down while stealthily, carefully making their way towards the gates. As luck would have it, no guards remained at their watchtowers due to the bad weather.  
  
Sean signaled for them to stop, looking around first before gesturing frantically for Charles to hurry. They had to climb over the gate without being seen by anyone on sentry duty. The climb wasn't easy. The visibility was poor and the rain made everything slippery. They managed to clamber over the surrounding wall where the gate is located even as the searchlights skimmed closer to them. Laughter nearly bubbled out of Charles' throat upon seeing the paved road. He was about to step towards it, however, Sean grabbed his arm and shook his head in negation.  
  
"We gotta keep off the main roads or someone's bound to see us."  
  
Charles didn't think that was a good idea. The thick underbrush and the trees made the way circuitous. It seemed like the long way around. He said so to Sean.  
  
"We have to take that chance. It's much faster if we take the road. If someone comes, we can always hide. It's dark anyway!"  
  
Despite Charles' suggestion, Sean refused to budge. Charles didn't have any time to argue with him. They were both soaking wet and chilled to the bones. They had to keep moving. Otherwise, their escape would have been all for nothing. They went through the bushes and the plants, with Charles hoping that they don't get entangled into some poison ivy. Not a single car passed by. Sean finally relented and they sprinted halfway down the main road until they arrived at the dock's gates. Sean warned Charles not to open the gate yet. He had suspected that there would still be guards there and he was right. They peeked through the gaps of the wooden gate and they saw two guards wearing raincoats and carrying rifles, stomping around in the mud and rain. They quickly hid themselves to avoid detection. The rain still continued to fall as they crouched within the cover of the bushes and the underbrush.  
  
"There must be some weak point on this gate that we could slip through," Charles suggested and Sean nodded in agreement. Sean's eyes may appear drugged, but he has this sharpness in his expression, brow furrowed thoughtfully and full of awareness.  
  
"Yeah. We could look for a gap, but how do we get past the guards? They could be walking near the walls for all we know."  
  
Charles peered on both sides of the outer wall enclosing the passage towards the docks. From what he could tell of the guard's movements, they concentrated on the main gate. Of course, he couldn't ascertain how many guards were actually patrolling the area. He thought that they would have to take the risk. They've already gotten this far. He pointed towards the area where the outer wall ended close to a thick outcropping of trees.  
  
"If we enter through a gap there, we can stick close to that inner wall and keep ourselves hidden from the guards."  
  
Charles thought the outer wall's design odd. Made of composite lumber, stacked vertically with varying lengths and thickness of wooden boards and interspersed with red brick pillars, it didn't look like it was secure enough to prevent an inmate from escaping. They could see that certain parts of the gate had begun to fall apart. Composite lumber is termite resistant, however, the structural damage may have been due to the passing of time and the wear and tear caused by the elements. Besides, why would the authorities bother with the docks when the institute supposedly had the best security system in the entire state? Weyland hadn't foreseen the possibility of an electrical malfunction and it made Charles sneer inwardly at the thought that they had outsmarted the director because of a fluke. Further encouraged by their near victory, Charles led the way this time and they managed to evade the guards. He was right after all. Only two guards slogged around before the gate. They must've grown bored of standing around so they openly talked and dawdled. At this point, the rain began to pour forth in a veritable deluge. Rather than working against them, the rain obscured them from the guards' view, allowing them to make a beeline for the docks.  
  
As soon as they boarded the small supply ship, Charles immediately began to look for a weapon he could use, should they encounter any of the ship's crew or captain. Sean placed a placating hand on his arm before he started bashing anyone.  
  
"No need for that. They housed the crew elsewhere for the night because of the bad weather. I heard the guards talking about it just now."  
  
"Who? The guards at the gate? You heard them talking in this rain?"  
  
Sean smiled at him languidly."I got sharp ears. Got a great set of pipes too. Wanna hear?"  
  
Charles made a face and pushed Sean's hand away. He did notice Sean sneaking close to those guards as they were fleeing, but enough of that.

Right now, they have to get their escape vehicle moving. He had a few lessons in navigating a boat before, but it appears Sean had sturdier sea legs than him. Sean seemed to know the workings of the boat. They had pulled the gangway off the docks and had cast off their mooring line, allowing the boat to go underway. For a moment, Charles had worried that the guards would hear the sound of the boat's motor, but the boat was built with some acoustical insulation in the engine room and it barely made any noise as they pushed away from the docks. Sean also kept the lights off as well to prevent the guards from noticing them.  
  
After the adrenaline rush and the excitement of their escape, they finally began to relax. Charles couldn't even see the island anymore through that torrential rain. Regardless of the violent tides that swung the boat about, Charles felt nothing but relief. The institute was too much of a sinister place for him. Something strange was happening in there and he didn't bother to investigate or delve into it further. He just wanted to get as far away as possible from it. Sean was navigating the wheel and monitoring the controls while Charles rummaged around for some cigarettes or booze. He eventually found a bottle of cheap whiskey in the captain's cabin, although what he really wanted was a pack of cigarettes. He tried to offer some to Sean, but Sean shook his head.  
  
"No, sir. I don't drink and drive." Sean drawled out.  
  
Charles chuckled insolently over Sean's southern twang. Sean didn't seem to have noticed the sarcasm in his laughter or perhaps he chose to ignore it. They had changed into the clothing that the crew had left in the ship and threw their wet clothes overboard. Charles peered out at the dark skies through the windshield and wondered if Sean knew where they were headed. He questioned Sean about it.  
  
"Just moving forward until I could get us out of this storm. We have a compass, but I can't use it properly until things calm down. I just want to get the fuck away from Weyland."  
  
"You and me both!"  
  
Drinking the booze by himself, it surprised Charles that he quickly became inebriated. Perhaps it was because he had not taken any liquor for many months now. Initially, he felt a pleasant buzz, the whiskey sending a ball of warmth within his belly, but then the world seemed to blur and darken around the edges as he talked to Sean.

"Let's cut a deal. Make sure I get to land safely and I'll make arrangements for us to leave the state. I have some connections. They'll help us out. After that, we can part ways."

Sean grinned that disturbing grin of his once more."Mighty generous of you, Mister-?"

"I'm Charles Xavier. I was with the police force once."

"What happened? What did you do?"

Charles didn't want to share too much information and just shrugged."Does it matter? Whatever actions I've done, it's not as exciting as arson or your exotic version of a barbecue party."

Sean seemed to find Charles' choice of words delightfully funny and began to laugh. Charles gave him a small, calculated smile, but then he shook his head slightly. He reached up, gently touching his temple with his fingertips. He was beginning to feel dizzy. He wasn't sure if it was a combination of the boat rocking around violently or if the whiskey had more wallop to it than he could handle. He noticed Sean staring at him closely and so he steadied himself. Now it was Sean's turn to give him a knowing smile.

"You're awfully cautious, Mister Xavier. Don't worry, I won't do anything. I just want the same thing you want. I want to make good on this escape. I'd be damned if they catch me again."

Charles smiled snidely."You got me there. Just so you know, if you pull any crazy shit with me, I'm going to fuck you up!"

The other nodded enthusiastically at this as if it was amusing to him. Charles still couldn't find it in himself to relax around Sean. Drinking the booze wasn't such a good idea after all. He put aside the bottle and continued to ask Sean some questions, hoping that this will help keep him cognizant, but despite his efforts, he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

He suddenly snapped awake. A hand was on his shoulder, gently urging him to wake up. He roughly pushed away at the hand touching him, his eyes wide and wary, until his blurry vision cleared and he saw who was waking him up. It was Sean.

"We're on land! I've pulled us into a private dock and there's no one around yet. We gotta hurry!"

Charles still felt out of sorts, but he managed to get to his feet. He swayed slightly and Sean reached out to steady him. He slapped Sean's hand away once more.

"Don't touch me! I can take care of myself!"Charles growled at him.

"Fine! Just get your ass moving already!"

Sean dashed out of the door and Charles staggered after him. Charles clutched at his aching head, his face scrunched up due to the pain he felt. He didn't think he'd get hung over this hard. When they stepped outside, it surprised Charles to see that they've rolled into a foggy area and that it was still dark. The rain had poured in hard after all. He wondered if they could even get far in this fog. It didn't look like they arrived in a city. Instead, it looked like they entered the boonies. There aren't any city lights or skyscrapers in the distance. Only hills as far as the eye could see.

"Wait, where the fuck are we?"

"I don't know yet! Let's just keep moving!"

Charles didn't have time to chew the other out. Sean was right. They had to put as much distance as possible between them and Weyland. Otherwise, they'll be sitting ducks if they remained stationary. By this time, the people at the institute may have discovered their disappearance. They ran into the woods, slapping away at the shrubberies, ignoring the squelch of wet vegetation beneath their feet. Charles wasn't feeling too well, so he hobbled as he ran.  Despite feeling under the weather, he followed Sean. However, after half an hour of running, Charles urged Sean that they should take a break. Charles bent forward, placing his hands on his thighs and gasping raggedly. His skin had taken on a sickly, grayish cast.

"You don't look too good."

"No shit, Sherlock!"Charles said breathlessly, glowering at Sean. He couldn't believe that the other blew them off the course and now, it would take them longer to get back to the city where his connections resided.

"Are you fucking stupid or something? We're too far off the city! How the hell am I going to get in touch with my people?"

Sean shrugged in response."I would've gone into the city docks if there aren't any coast guards roving around in their boats. I had no choice."

Charles just made a scoffing sound, too winded to continue berating Sean. When he somewhat recovered, they continued to hightail it, but they did so at a much slower pace. Sean wanted to cut Charles some slack. Of course, Sean only did this because Charles was his ticket to freedom. He couldn't very well leave the other behind. The way was dark and they could barely see where they were going. They were pacing themselves when the rain suddenly began to pour down on them once more. They had to look for shelter.

"Over there! I see something!"Sean said, going ahead of Charles.

Wheezing like an asthmatic and bending over, Charles wiped away at his damp brow as he stopped to rest again. What he saw next baffled him. They came upon a concrete tunnel, carved into the side of a hill. It was painted white and it has a light source. He walked slowly towards Sean. They took shelter in that odd tunnel, with Charles' arms crossed before himself, shivering along with Sean.

"Now where the hell are we? This looks weird."Charles muttered as they stood there, huddling close to draw warmth from each other.

Sean's face suddenly lit up as he thought of something.

"We're at some entrance into a dam! I've seen one of these on TV before!"

Charles thought that was quite plausible. They must be near a water dam. Places such as these existed in the countryside so that it could supply the masses with clean water. Sean turned to look down the length of the tunnel. He could see that further in, cool white LED lights lined the walls. He tilted his head towards the path deep into the tunnel.

"Say, why don't we go in? Maybe we'll find some food and stuff. Maybe we'll even find a car we can jack up!"

Charles shook his head. He didn't want to go poking into some place he wasn't sure of. At least if they were out in the open, they'll be able to see where they were headed. Sean kept on goading him to come along until eventually, he relented. They just had to keep moving. Sean might be on to something. The guy had been resourceful all this time. He'd found the means to escape from a remote island, sail into a private dock to avoid detection and took him along for the ride. With the other by his side, things seemed to be going their way. As they walked slowly into the tunnel, Charles voiced out a question that had been nagging him for months.

"You've been so quiet next to my cell. I was beginning to wonder if you were even alive. How come I didn't hear you before?"

Sean blew air through his mouth. He lifted his arms and placed his hands at the back of his head."They had me in some restraints, you know? Fucking mouth restraints and bed restraints. Not to mention I was heavily medicated! Like the dudes next to me."

"How come you're not medicated now?"

"Simple. The moment my orderly left, I puked it all into my toilet, after I pulled a Houdini on my restraints. Had to do it real quiet, 'cause I didn't want to catch any attention from 'em guards."

So Sean had planned his escape, probably when he heard about the supply boat's arrival. He had to hand it to the other. As they went deeper into that tunnel, the light source became scarcer and the distance between the LED lights had grown further apart. It didn't sit well with Charles at all. He was walking ahead of Sean when he felt a sharp sting at the nape of his neck.

"Fuck!"Charles shouted, slapping a hand to his neck. Something bit him. He had a deathly fear of bats and he hoped the tunnel didn't have any of those flying blood suckers.

"You swear an awful lot, you know?"

"Some fucking thing bit me!"Charles said hotly. He was losing his temper with Sean once more and he was feeling disoriented as well. He swayed on his feet and placed a hand on to the wall to steady himself. He was beginning to feel the same way he did when he drank from that bottle of whiskey earlier. The edge of his vision had begun to blur and darken again, as if he was about to faint. Sean suddenly grabbed his arm and was leading him forward, supporting him because he was about to black out. His knees felt rubbery and weak, his thoughts losing coherence that he could do nothing but meekly follow Sean's lead.

"Come on, we're almost there."

"Almost where?"Charles asked feebly, his breathing ragged, eyes heavy-lidded and then he momentarily closed his eyes.

All went to darkness after that.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a room. He had a sense that he was in a bedroom because he was lying upon a bed. His vision still wasn't clear, so he rubbed at his eyes, willing them to focus and then he looked up to survey his surroundings. To his utter horror, he saw that he was back in his cell again. He did a double-take as he sprang up quickly with a gasp, but sagged back down again as nausea hit him hard, his guts swirling sickeningly. He looked around with wide and shocked eyes. He was hyperventilating, looking around at his familiar room, wondering if he had lost his mind after all and that he had imagined his escape or even meeting someone named Sean. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest and he could feel his head thudding along with it. He stood up, still shaken. Then, he saw the clothes he was wearing. He wasn't wearing his gray overalls. He was wearing the clothes he found on the ship. He still had on the black slacks and the white button-down shirt that was several sizes too big for him, but his shoes had been replaced with clean, black leather shoes.

"What...What the fuck is this?"Charles stammered as he gripped at the front of his shirt, his hand trembling.

"Hey!"Someone said at his back and as Charles turned to face the speaker, a fist collided with his cheek, causing to him to crumple down on to the floor, twisting around in agony. It was Shaw who had punched him. Shaw had somehow sneaked in on him as he was having a crisis of sorts. He grabbed at Charles' ankles and bodily dragged him out of the cell.

"Welcome back, asshole! Did you enjoy your little excursion?"Shaw tittered and Charles couldn't say anything at first. His throat felt like it had closed up. He was breathing harshly, confused by the events unfolding before him and then he got another shock. Sean Cassidy was following them from behind and he was grinning down at Charles wickedly, giggling like a loon. He realized too late that he had been played. Sean skipped as he walked and he began to slap a hand at the glass cells, aggravating the other inmates and Shaw allowed Sean to do as he wanted. Behind the glass, there came a stirring of life. Somehow, the occupants weren't restrained this time. Charles finally had a good look at some of the inmates in his block as he was dragged along on his back. They looked deformed, hunched over and bald, as if they had been reduced to something less than human. Their eyes stared after him lifelessly.

Shaw must have grown tired of dragging him. He let go of Charles' ankles and then he grabbed at Charles' arm roughly, forcing him to get up.

"Upsy-daisy! The fun part's just about to start! We can't have you sleeping on us now, do we?"

Charles still couldn't seem to find his voice. He was too terrified, defenseless against someone like Shaw and if he guessed it correctly, they must have drugged him, causing him to become this weak. First with the whiskey, then in the tunnel, but what the hell would all this conjecture do for him? It was too late. He knew that they were going to do something to him and all he could do at this point was to brace himself against it.

Shaw pushed him into a cell that didn't look like the other cells. This one had padded walls, all pristine and white. Like one of those old-fashioned rooms in a Victorian bedlam. The floor was padded as well and above, a harsh white ceiling with a bare light bulb. Charles began to get up and as he did so, Shaw kicked him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing his vision to blur dangerously. Pain bloomed where Shaw had kicked him. He uttered a breathless gasp and as he looked up at his tormentor, Shaw let loose with an uppercut to his chin. He collapsed backwards, groaning at the pain, eyes squinting shut.

The sadistic guard punched him out thoroughly, that it made him wonder if any of his teeth would fly out. Thankfully, they did not. Shaw then punched him in the eye and sent him reeling backwards into the padded wall, heaving and sweaty from the assault. He hurt all over. Why was this being done to him? Was it because of his attempt to escape? He crumpled down on to his knees, wondering if he should beg for mercy, knowing that he would find none. His shirt was a bloody mess, covered as well in his perspiration. His hair had become a darker shade too, due to the sweat streaming from him. His blood had splattered up against the walls as Shaw punched him, again and again. Shaw still had something more in store for him.

Shaw began to stretch and then he rolled his neck around, releasing the sound of a crackle. He placed his hands upon his hips and exhaled a pleased sigh. Shaw's uniform still looked impeccable. However, he was also sweating from his exertions.

"You're quite resilient, Mr. Xavier. I really want to do you in and finish you off, but Weyland wouldn't let me. Isn't that right, Weyland?"

Charles could barely lift his head to see if the director was indeed present and sure enough, Weyland was in the room with them. Charles didn't even sense his presence. Weyland was leaning against the wall close to the door, watching as Shaw beat Charles. He still had that same cold look in his eyes.

"Are you enjoying the show?"Shaw gasped out, smiling wickedly.

"Quite."

"Bet you want to beat him up yourself, huh? Oh, but you wouldn't want to dirty your hands, wouldn't you? You like it best if others do your dirty work."Shaw said throatily, attempting to egg the director on. He looked from the director to Charles, sneering.

"You want me to let you in on a secret, Mr. Xavier?"

When Charles didn't answer immediately, Shaw grabbed a handful of his hair and slapped him hard in the face."Answer me!"

"Y-Yes!"Charles stuttered, flinching when he thought Shaw was going to hit him again, but Shaw just grasped his chin in one hand, forcing him to look up through a blur of pain and tears. He couldn't understand why all of this is happening. Shaw drew close, almost at kissing distance, breathing down into Charles' face. The smell of his breath was just awful, like something rotting. He had that crazed, demonic look in his eyes like he was no different from the inmates of the institute.

"I was the one who killed your supplier and for the last two years, I've been burying the body parts of my victims in your home when you and your wife were away. How you like 'em apples, hmm?"Shaw crooned. Charles had never known such terror as this before but now, he truly felt horrified. They framed him and now they are going to kill him. He at least deserved to know why.

"Why?"He said in a soft and drained voice.

Now it was Weyland's turn to laugh, but his laughter sounded forced, even bitter as he enunciated the words clearly."I don't think our point's coming across to him, Shaw. Maybe you should make him understand."

"With pleasure," Shaw said, chortling with glee and then he grabbed violently at Charles' arm and forced him to lie down on his chest. Shaw then pinned him down with one knee, twisting his arm so hard that he thought his arm would break. Charles began to whimper and fight the other off, but Shaw was too strong. He clamped down hard on one of Charles' wrist, making it so Charles' palm was planted on to the floor close to his face. Then, just when Charles thought he had endured enough, Shaw produced a pair of medical pliers. Charles saw it and began his struggle afresh, his face crumpled up in utter horror. He knew what was going to happen next. Shaw began to pull at the nail of his forefinger.

Charles' wailing filled the room and he thought that he would die due to the horrible pain he felt. He struggled and screamed, to no avail. He was going to die a gristly death, of that he was certain. He wondered if Shaw would do to him like what he had done to his drug dealer. He had seen the pictures of Shaw's handiwork, from when he was in interrogation. The pictures showed that his dealer wasn't just killed off with a shooting or a stabbing. The other was thoroughly gutted; his innards torn out and the limbs hacked off and scattered about. Blood splattered everything except for the sawed-off hands, left dangling from handcuffs still connected to the bedposts. His eyes were plucked off, leaving black gaping holes where his eyes should have been. Was that also his fate?

To be sure, this wasn't because of some whim of Weyland's. He realized that the purpose of his torture under Shaw's hands was revenge. He had many enemies, but who could have done this? He didn't think Weyland was doing this because he slighted the other. He didn't even know him. So it was safe to assume, someone was paying Weyland to torment him and perhaps afterwards, kill him. Charles couldn't think straight anymore. There was nothing but pain. He only began thinking about his predicament after Shaw had pulled off the fingernails from both of his hands and left him there. Charles was still lying on his stomach, sweating and bleary, exhausted from the abuse.

"Do you understand now, Mr. Xavier?"Weyland asked tauntingly, enjoying Charles' suffering.

Weyland bent close to taunt Charles some more, but then he saw the confusion in Charles' eyes and it angered him afresh. He snapped a finger at Shaw, who was resting after doing a thorough work on Charles, sitting down on his haunches close to the padded wall.

"Take him to my office!"

"He's still pissing you off?"Shaw teased.

"Just get this piece of shit and take him to my office!"

"Maybe if you let me cut him up and kill him, that'll satisfy you-"

Weyland, who had always been a calm and composed man, suddenly snarled at Shaw, his eyes wide and blazing. He had stomped over to Shaw and grabbed fiercely at his collar.

"You don't understand! Death is too good for him! I want him to stay alive. I'll keep him alive until his mind breaks! I'll do everything in my power to strip him bare and humiliate him every day of his life!"

Shaw feared no one, but seeing the director's anger seemed to chastise him. He even looked...afraid. Charles listened in on their exchange, incredulous at what he was hearing. So Weyland did have something against him after all. Shaw nodded quietly and hauled Charles up. Charles struggled feebly, but he was aching all over. He didn't have any strength left to fight the other off anymore. Shaw carried him in his arms, while Weyland followed them closely. Charles thought he wouldn't see Sean again, but the other was waiting from outside the door, still smiling in such a disturbing way. He also followed them as they headed for the director's office. The orderlies and other guards walking around took no notice of them. They just went about and minded their own business, like nothing was out of the ordinary, even as Charles' blood dripped down on to the floor.

Once they arrived in Weyland's office, Shaw dropped Charles on the floor, not caring for the other's pain. Charles groaned again, favoring his bleeding fingers. He was squirming around on the floor, moaning and closing his eyes.

Weyland took off his suit, leaving his vest and shirt on. He glared at Shaw and Sean.

"Leave."

Shaw just rolled his eyes and did as he was told, but Sean remained for a moment. He went towards Weyland, looking at the other with worshiping eyes.

"My reward! You promised me my reward if I do this!"

Weyland smiled at him snidely. He stuck a leg out and tapped the patent leather shoe of one foot upon the black and white tiles of the marbled floor. Sean went to his knees and greedily licked and kissed at Weyland's shoe, groveling before the other like a dog and crooning with pleasure. Charles could only lie on the floor and wonder about what a fucked up place this institute is. After a few minutes, Weyland began to look annoyed. He kicked Sean away from himself.

"Enough! I still have to deal with this garbage! Go!"Weyland said as he jerked a thumb towards Charles' direction.

Although disappointed, Sean did as he was told and left the room. Now it was only Weyland and Charles. When will this end? What was Weyland planning to do to him next? Weyland had a decanter with some Cognac in it from a wine cabinet. He poured himself a measure of the liquor and took a single gulp of it. He then crouched over to where Charles is and he began to unzip Charles' pants. Charles' eyes went wide with disgust when he realized what Weyland wanted to do to him, attempting to pull away from the other, but Weyland grabbed him by the throat and drew him close, smiling at him scornfully.

"Aren't you into pain? Bondage? I've had a talk with your wife and the whores you slept with. I'm sure you'll enjoy what I'm about to do to you."

"No! get away from me, you fucking homo!"Charles screeched out, trying to push Weyland away as the other prepared to straddle him. Weyland violently pulled Charles' pants down along with his underwear. He then forced Charles' thighs apart and unbuckled his own belt. He unzipped his pants and prepared to violate Charles. He positioned his cock right at Charles' hole. Earlier, as he watched Charles' assault, he began to get a hard on. He somehow took pleasure in seeing that look of anguish in Charles' face. He was seeing it again now. He was glad that he was still rock hard. He roughly lifted one of Charles' legs and forced himself into the other.

"Noooo! No! Stop!"Charles screamed, finding that there's still some strength left in him to fight the other off, but Weyland was bigger and stronger. Weyland had lubricated himself with his pre-cum that despite the difficulty of raping Charles, he managed to thrust into the other's hole. Charles' eyes were nearly bugging out, mouth coming unhinged as Weyland tore into him. The pain was excruciating, as if Weyland was splitting him in half by ripping into him, drilling hard into his hole. Charles couldn't believe that this kind of violation would ever happen to him. Weyland began to pound his hips violently into him, reaching out to hold Charles' wrists down as he raped the other repeatedly.

Weyland's face was crumpled up as well. He grunted along with Charles as he began to thrust faster and harder, tearing into Charles with violent insistence until he climaxed. Charles felt the hot spurt of Weyland's cum inside his hole and he shuddered in revulsion at it. He could smell the Cognac from Weyland's breath as the other gasped against his throat. After that, Charles was just lying limply upon the floor, eyes glassy and faraway. He thought Weyland was done with him, but then Weyland reached for his cock and began to jack him off.

"Stop! Don't touch me!"Charles pleaded feebly, but Weyland was grasping his cock so hard that he thought the other intended to break his manhood off. His cock remained limp in Weyland's hand, but due to the pressure of Weyland's assault, he began to piss himself, the urine soaking into the fabric of his pants. Weyland smiled upon seeing this disgusting and humiliating thing happening to him. He leaned in close and murmured something into Charles' ear.

"You had this coming."

Weyland began to laugh insolently and then he stood up. He buckled his pants up, wiped his hands and then he picked up his suit coat. He gave Charles one last derisive stare and then he left Charles in that room, shivering and gasping, staring up at the high ceiling with his hazy, tear-filled eyes.

 


	4. Chapter 4

   
  
_You had this coming_. Those had been Weyland's words to him after his violation. Somehow, they knew each other in the past. However, he couldn't for the life of him remember what he had done to that raping bastard or if they've ever really even met before. Maybe Weyland was lying. He would have remembered a psychotic cunt like him. He's someone who's hard to miss, someone who's unforgettable. Charles wracked his brains for a memory of the other, but his mind just wouldn't function. The only thing he knew was the pain. His entire body ached horribly because Shaw had beaten him up pretty badly. He could feel the contusions swelling on his face, especially around one eye. That eye had closed over due to the punches he incurred from Shaw. He wondered if his arm was broken. Shaw had twisted his arm around so violently after forcing him on to his knees during his torture, that his arm still felt disjointed and numb. He couldn't even touch his face because Shaw had ripped his fingernails out on both hands. Not only that, he was bleeding from his anus. Perhaps a mingling of his blood and that sodomite's semen leaked from his backside, but he couldn't even tell anymore. He remained supine upon the marble floor, lying in his own blood and piss, shivering and sweating after what he had endured. He had puked a couple of times, turning his head to the side to do so and adding more to the pool of filth he's lying in. He couldn't even get up. He didn't know if he was in shock. Perhaps they've left him to bleed out and die after all. He felt so far away, distanced from himself because he couldn't live with the fact that another man violated him. He sobbed softly, willing himself to just die so that the pain would end. He floated in and out of consciousness, with no knowledge of how much time had passed. Then, he heard someone calling his name. It sounded like Hank McCoy. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt gummy, crusted over with some muck.  
  
"Get up, Charles. Do you need me to get an orderly to help you? Shall I call for Creed?" Indeed, it was Hank's voice.  
  
Charles mumbled something unintelligible, still unable to open his eyes. Hank leaned closer to him in the hope that he would hear the other better.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"—still alive?"Charles croaked out.  
  
"Yes, you're still alive. Can you get up?"  
  
"No. Wanna sleep," Charles said in a mushy voice, barely able to form any words from his swollen mouth.  
  
"Charles, Weyland asked me to treat you. If he finds out that you're still here, he might do something else to you."  
  
That got Charles' attention. So Hank knew what had been done to him. After all, he was in cahoots with the rest of them. Although he sounded like the voice of reason in this place, he's no different from the lunatics that controlled the institute. Charles finally opened his eyes and rolled to his side. He forced himself to sit upright. Using his hands for balance, he hoisted his body up with the help of his wobbly arms, his back towards Hank. The doctor saw Charles' bare backside, with an incrustation of dried blood upon his inner thighs. His shirt was torn and bloody, exposing his pale, bruised shoulder to the other. His pants still remained in a crumpled heap, wrapped around one ankle. Charles seemed to be favoring one arm too as if it was broken. Hank thought he was a pitiful sight indeed.  
  
"I can't do it, Hank. Can't get up."  
  
"I'll get Creed, then."  
  
"No."  
  
"What?"  
  
Charles swallowed thickly, forcing himself to enunciate the words."Even if I live, what difference does it make? Weyland said he plans to keep me alive until my mind breaks. I'd rather die than endure any more of this."  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"Just kill me. Help me by killing me. Tell him I bled to death."  
  
"Do you think I'm going to allow that to happen?"A stern voice said from the doorway. Charles flinched upon hearing that voice. It was Weyland. No doubt, he heard the entire conversation. The director stalked over to them, giving Charles that same cold and menacing stare. Now he understood what that look meant. This psychopathic monster thoroughly despised him because of some past slight that Charles couldn't even remember. The director turned his attention on Hank, narrowing his eyes at him.  
  
"Were you planning on reneging our agreement, Hank? By giving in to his whims?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
"Then why aren't you treating him yet? Why is he still here?"  
  
Hank kept his face expressionless."I was about to get Mr. Creed. Charles can't stand on his own right now. He's still hurt."  
  
The director snorted disdainfully and then he grabbed Charles by the arm, forcing him to get to his feet and carrying the other in his arms effortlessly. Notwithstanding his pain, Charles could feel Weyland's bare strength as the other held him in his arms. He acted like a refined gent before other people, but in truth, he was a brutal rapist. The memory of Weyland violently raping him sent shivers of revulsion through him. Charles didn't want this man touching him and it showed even on his banged-up face. Weyland seemed to relish seeing his misery as if he knew what Charles was thinking of.  
  
"Let's head over to your office. You can treat him there. I'll stay with you until I get your diagnosis on his condition."  
  
"What about your work? Didn't you have a meeting?"  
  
"Azazel's taking care of things for me. He has my notes and the action plan for the proposals."  
  
Hank just sighed and plodded on after them while his superior carried the unfortunate former police officer in his arms. Like before, Charles noticed that the orderlies and the guards didn't look their way. Even when they saw other doctors making their rounds, these people pretended not to notice the state he was in. If this was a normal psychiatric facility, there would've been some reaction. When they got closer to Hank's work area, Hank opened the door so that Weyland could bring Charles in. Charles had been to this place on several occasions so he was familiar with Hank's sparsely decorated office. Hank opted for white and pale blue-green as his motif, generic hospital colors, whereas Weyland's dimly lit office looked decadent and rustic, with stuffed animal heads hanging on the walls and a large fireplace as its centerpiece. In short, the director favored a manly man's work space.  
  
Today though, Charles noticed something different in the setup. Hank had an examination table brought in, along with some medical equipment. Hank had this room prepared especially for him. Weyland then laid Charles upon the examination table. The doctor had already lined the table with a disposable medical sheet to prevent Charles' blood from contaminating the area while Weyland made himself at home. He wiped his hands with a couple of sanitary wipes, then he headed for Hank's coffee machine and poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a seat in Hank's chair and grimly watched as Hank examined Charles' condition while he sipped his drink. Hank began by removing Charles' dirty clothes, leaving the other naked upon the table. He cleaned most of the blood away so that he could examine Charles thoroughly. Charles whimpered quietly and trembled throughout the procedure, his body still in a state of trauma.  
  
"The nail bed of his fingernails has already closed up. It will take three months or so for his nails to grow back. No broken ribs. As for his right shoulder, it's dislocated. We can remedy that quickly, but his, uh, his..."  
  
"His asshole's torn up, isn't it?"Weyland said nonchalantly, completing the sentence that Hank couldn't say out loud.  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
"You can fix that, can't you?"  
  
"Yes, of course, I can, but you mustn't aggravate it any further as he heals. Otherwise, persistent bleeding in that area might cause his death."  
  
"How long should I wait until I can use him again?  
  
"Director-"  
  
Weyland's cup clattered upon the table as he brought the cup down hard, glaring at the doctor angrily."How long? Just answer that!"  
  
"Three weeks to a month perhaps? That would depend on how fast Charles heals or if there aren't any complications. I'm surprised you were even able to penetrate him. Forced anal penetration could sometimes injure both the one receiving the act and the one doing the penetrating. You don't feel anything, do you?"  
  
"Don't mind me. I'm perfectly fine. Besides, he probably wanted something like that done to him. I was able to fuck him in the ass so easily!"Weyland said, sneering at Charles.  
  
Charles turned his head away from the man's arrogance, wanting nothing more than to kill the raping motherfucker. He wanted to do to Weyland what the other had done to him, only much worse. He wanted to plug the man's asshole up with broken glass along with a baseball bat with nails and cut his dick off with a dull knife. Weyland made him feel emasculated, worthless. He wanted so badly to avenge himself against Weyland and Shaw, but he was powerless right now. He swore to himself that if he lives through this, he'll find a way to deal Weyland a violent and painful death. As much as he wanted to scream curses at the crazy son of a bitch in that moment, he knew it was a pointless act. He decided to keep his mouth shut and listen in on their conversation, hoping to glean something from it. Hank chose to ignore the director's sarcasm.  
  
"Right. As for his other injuries, it will take several weeks to heal as well. I've spoken with Doctor Frost from the mainland and she recommended some medication that might help with the healing process."  
  
"Very well. We'll have it shipped in as soon as possible. I want him to be ready in a month. Clean him up for now and take him to his new cell. I'll pay him a visit later."  
  
With that, Weyland stood up and left Hank and Charles without another word. Hank exhaled under his breath, relieved that the director finally left the room. The atmosphere had become so awkward and oppressing with that man around. He bent close to Charles once more to continue cleaning and treating the other's wounds.  
  
"How does it feel? Working for a raping, homo faggot like Weyland? How much did he pay you to go through with his crazy schemes?"Charles asked bitterly as Hank wiped the dried blood from between his thighs. Hank remained silent. He noticed that the basin he had filled with warm water to rinse his washcloth in had become red with Charles' blood. He needed to get a fresh batch of water to continue with the cleaning. He left Charles for a moment, knowing the other wouldn't be able to get up and he filled the basin with some water from his office lavatory. He then went back to continue cleaning Charles.  
  
"Answer the question, you spineless prick!"Charles cried out insolently. Hank still didn't answer him. He eventually grabbed at Hank's white coat when the other drew close to wipe his hair and face, despite the pain of his torn fingernails.  
  
"ANSWER ME!"Charles snarled out loud.  
  
Hank slowly reached up and removed Charles' grasp on his coat. He answered Charles' angry query in his usual subdued manner.  
  
"I feel grateful for what he has done for me. He didn't have to pay me anything, but I'm still on his payroll."  
  
"Then why? Why is he doing this to me? What's the point of this? He claimed I did him some wrong, but I don't even know him. I've never met him before in my entire life!" Charles cried out, his voice cracking with feeling.  
  
"Are you quite sure about that, Charles? Weyland did all this just for you. He established this institute with the intention of imprisoning you here for as long as he could keep you alive. He granted my favors on the condition that I keep quiet about how he runs this place and he allowed me to work here. I'm telling you everything that I know because you won't win against someone like him no matter what you do."  
  
That stunned Charles. These chain of events happened because of Weyland's assumption that he had done something utterly terrible towards the other that it warranted this kind of abuse. He would have remembered something noteworthy like that if it was that serious. Weyland had gone this far just for him? Charles began to chuckle mirthlessly, placing his palm on his burning eyes. His head was beginning to ache again.  
  
"You're all crazy here! You're all insane!"  
  
Hank didn't object to Charles' words. He actually nodded in agreement."You're right. Everyone, the orderlies and the guards, even some of the medical staff we have here, they're patients of this institute. He made a deal with all of us. In exchange, we have to do his bidding."  
  
Just when Charles thought nothing else would shock him about this place, Hank threw him in for another loop."How? How did he do all this?"  
  
"You'll have to ask him that. He was once a patient of this institute too. In a short span of time, he managed to overtake this facility and claim it for his own. I've never met a man with such relentless determination like Weyland's. I often wondered what drove him to do the things he had done and now I know. You are his catalyst."

Charles didn't know what else to say. Their conversation didn't progress any further due to the shock he felt over these revelations and afterward, Hank called Mr. Creed into his office, asking the other to get a gurney for Charles. As usual, Mr. Creed remained silent. He didn't even inquire as to how Charles ended up like this. Before taking him out of the office, Hank put Charles into a green hospital gown.

"Director Weyland wants Mr. Xavier placed in the special wing."

Creed just nodded and followed Dr. McCoy's orders. He wheeled the gurney towards a wing Charles had never been to before. He suddenly realized that this wing was in the same area Sean had shown him before. The old wing. They entered a utility closet, which actually has a secret panel and then when they arrived at his new 'cell', he was surprised to find that it did not look secure like the cells in the new wing. It was a large room, with brick walls, a single bed, a reinforced glass mirror embedded into the wall and a wooden table with two chairs. Notably, he found some things that disturbed him about this setup. The chains with shackles, hanging from the wall and overhead, wooden planks with leather straps suspended from the ceiling, secured with a rope and out of his reach. In other words, an S&M room. Hank saw where he was looking, but he didn't say anything.

Mr.Creed helped his former charge into the bed and while Charles was settling down, the orderly suddenly held him down firmly as Hank injected something into his arm. He didn't notice the two men exchanging looks earlier. Charles wasn't able to react in time. His body was still weak due to the ordeal he had endured. He was about to voice out a question, but Hank answered him as if he knew what Charles was about to ask him.

"It's just a sedative. Something to help you sleep. I know you're still hurting, so take a rest. It will help you heal faster. Mr. Creed will put some restraints on you now to keep you from doing any self-harm in case you suddenly wake up. I'll be seeing you later."

Charles began to feel that same feeling he had when they drugged him. He managed to throw in one last rant before he passed out as Mr. Creed restrained him."You fuckers! You think I want to heal so that Weyland can rape me all over again? I'll kill myself before he touches me again! If I ever get out of here, I'll kill you all! I'll...I'll..."

Then all went black.

 

When he came to, he was wearing the restraints the staff reserved for those intending to do self-harm. His arms were bound by leather straps, secured on to the bed in a tangle of snaps and metal catches. His dislocated shoulder felt like it had pins and needles poking into it. Hank must have patched that up while he was unconscious. They had attached an I.V. drip into his arm as he slept. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail. He also noticed that his fingertips felt tight and when he looked down, he saw that the tips of his fingers were wrapped in waterproof elastic bandages. He still felt a dull ache all over his body, despite the pain medication Hank injected him with early on. He shifted his weight upon one hip and as he did so, he felt something firm, with a plastic-like texture attached to his cock. He still felt numb down below, but his skin came into contact with a long tube, leading down to the side of his bed. It appears they've also attached a catheter on him, which means, they intended to keep him in this bed for a while until he gets better. His ass still felt sore, but Hank must have done something to his backside while he slept. His hole felt grainy, like something was shoved up in there. It felt like a mesh, but he wasn't really sure what it was. How the hell was he going to take a dump in this situation? Whatever Hank had injected him with, it was strong enough to keep him knocked out. Same as with his glass cell, this room didn't have any windows, except for the air vents up above.

He has a bandage over one eye, but he could still see clearly even with only one functioning eye. His throat felt dry and his lips felt thick and mushy because Shaw had split his lip open. He could still taste his own blood in his mouth. However, they had put a mouth restraint on him to keep him from biting his own tongue. He didn't bother calling out to anyone. He couldn't do so, given that he's tightly restrained. He just remained still in bed, wondering how he could get out of this situation. He suddenly sensed a movement to his side, causing him to turn his head slightly in that direction. It was Weyland again. He was sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, smoking a cigarette. Weyland gave him a sideways sneer, exhaling a cloud of white smoke.

"Can't wag your flapping tongue now, can you?"

The director stood up from his chair and walked over to the bed. He's wearing a different suit this time. A charcoal gray three-piece number with a stylish lapel. He always looked so polished whenever Charles saw him. The director made a show of smoking, knowing that Charles was dying for a smoke.

"You must be thinking that you don't deserve the treatment you are receiving now, Mr. Xavier, but I assure you, I know exactly what I'm doing and what my actions entail. Surely, you might even assume that I'm a madman, but I have full control of my mental faculties. I wouldn't have made this all possible if I wasn't."

Charles could only roll his one good eye in response. The mouth restraint was that efficient.

"I've heard from Hank that you've asked him some questions. Let me give you a gist of what you need to know. You're here because punishment needs to be meted out to you. The second point, you've also asked Hank how I made this all happen. Simple. Through sheer willpower and my innate ability at persuasiveness."

He wanted to ask the director what sin he had committed to incur such wrath, but the director denied him that knowledge. Weyland has this preternatural ability to read his mind, just by looking into his eye and seeing the inquisitiveness in his gaze. The director decided to taunt him further.

"You don't seem to recall what you've done to me, Mr. Xavier. Tell you what, if you can remember what offense you have committed, I'll release you from this institute, without anyone ever laying a finger on you. I'll even provide you a boat. Of course, you probably don't believe me, but I'd like you to know I'm a man of my word. I'm giving you a month to mull it over. If by that time, you haven't figured it out, I'll keep you as my personal sex slave."

Charles' eye narrowed down into a slit, his eyebrow drawing down angrily. Who in their right mind would agree to such bullshit?

He turned his head away, indicating that he didn't care for Weyland's offer, even giving him the finger while in his restraints. Weyland just chuckled at his reaction.

"Typical. I'll eventually wipe that insolence from you, Mr. Xavier."

Weyland's expression suddenly brightened."Ah, I just remembered something! I have a newspaper clipping of your last picture as a free man. Would you like to see it?"

Charles managed to utter a muffled sigh. He turned his head back towards Weyland and gave him a sullen stare even with just one eye. When he had been an officer, he frequently had his pictures taken for the media. He used to love the attention, pompously parading himself as a hard-boiled hero cop, a favorite of the top brass. Weyland took a piece of folded paper from the pocket of his suit coat and showed it to Charles. The grainy newspaper clipping showed him wearing one of his flashy suits, both fists held close to his face with his middle fingers pointing upwards in that universal gesture of 'fuck you'. He had on a defiant expression, a cigarette dangling from his lips to emphasize how much of a badass he is. He remembered the media hounding him that day, causing him to go off the deep end.

"Do you remember this one? This was the day the media dug up some dirt on you and accused you of taking in bribes. Your superiors began to lose faith in you after seeing this picture of you in the papers and it caused you to drink heavily, even driving you to abuse illegal substances on a daily basis. I've followed your movements long before that, Mr. Xavier. There, I've given you a hint. Start jogging your memory from that period, going backward. Perhaps you'll start remembering something about me."

Charles didn't know what else to gesture towards this lunatic so he just stared. Weyland didn't care for a response anyway. He just held the picture up and smiled faintly at it, as if it pleased him.

"This is my favorite picture of you, Mr. Xavier. This picture best represents you. Don't you think so? I'm going to have it framed and placed on my office table."

Since he couldn't utter any expletives, he just made a scoffing sound and turned his head away again. He had enough of Weyland's deranged ideas for one day. The director didn't say anything more. He left as quietly as he had come in. Despite his impudence, Charles found himself trying to recall his past transgressions. Weyland said it was before that picture was taken. There wasn't anything else he could do anyway. He began drifting off to sleep and as he did so, he recalled an incident with two teenaged boys he apprehended two years ago.

 

_The two schoolboys warily stared up at him after he informed them that he was a cop. He quickly flashed his badge at them and pushed them forcefully towards an alleyway, blocking the way and preventing them from escaping. He acted like a stereotypical plainclothes police officer. He is wearing a black overcoat over a suit with his dark brown hair slicked back, but in contrast, he is also sporting a short ginger beard, lending him an aggressive demeanor. Although he wasn't a tall man, he appeared intimidating because of the coldness in his deep-set blue eyes and the mean scowl on his face. He made a come-forward gesture with his hand, a lit cigarette ever-present between his lips._

_"Give it here!"_

_"Whaddaya mean, boss? We ain't-"_

_Charles smacked the boy who tried to lie to him. The boy favored his cheek, looking wounded and giving him a look of barely suppressed hatred. The boy's own parents probably didn't even hit him before. It was just his luck that he encountered someone like Charles because they did indeed, have drugs in their possession._

_"Stop fuckin' around and hand over them railers. I saw you talking to that punk earlier. He's a dealer, boy. Surely, you weren't just using your milk money to buy a couple of candy bars from him, hmm?"_

_Both boys fell silent, exchanging worried glances. It was obvious that they had skipped their classes because they probably planned to get high on crack cocaine and go drinking afterward. Charles assumed that they did this from time to time for kicks. They had the money to do so since they came from prominent families, clearly evident in their boarding school uniforms and ivy league haircuts. Charles sneered at them arrogantly, crossing his arms over his chest._

_"You boys don't seem to understand what deep shit you're in right now. Want me to tell your parents and your school principal about this? I don't think they'll be very happy to hear that their fine and upstanding academy boys are out coasting on crack cocaine. How old are you boys? Sixteen?"_

_The boys remained quiet, exchanging looks. However, one of them began to tremble fearfully, the boy's face turning pallid and grayish. This one was about to crack. Taking this as an opportunity to intimidate the boys further, Charles pretended to look wrathful. He roughly pushed them against the dirty brick wall of that alleyway, grabbing them by their collars._

_"I asked you a question!"He growled at them, causing him to drop his cigarette._

_The trembling boy finally answered him."We're sixteen!"_

_Grinning cruelly, Charles patted the boy's cheek, compelling the boy to flinch back in disgust._

_"Right. So why the fuck are you boys not in school? Playing truant and doing drugs, I could book you in and throw you in the slammer."_

_The outspoken one suddenly reacted with defiance."You can't do that! My father-"_

_Charles slammed his hand upon the wall next to the boy's head, causing both boys to jump slightly, shocked by the other's animosity._

_"I don't give a fuck about your father, you little prick! You wanna have a second asshole drilled into you? Well, guess what? When I book you in, those men in the detention cell are sure to give you a brand new hole once they gang rape you! You want that?"_

_The boys froze upon hearing the word 'rape'. Charles snickered, enjoying their fear. He let that sink in for a moment and then he held his hand out again, gesturing for them to hand over the drugs._

_"Now that we have an understanding, why don't you hand over the goods and I'll keep mum about this. How's that?"_

_The defiant boy gritted his teeth angrily, glaring up at Charles. He couldn't keep going on with his rebellious act for very long. Not only was Charles an adult, he's also an authority figure. Charles had them beat from the beginning and the boy was only dragging this on. The boy's shoulders drooped in defeat when it hit home, but as he did so, Charles beamed at him triumphantly._

_Feeling good about himself, Charles strutted down the streets, patting down the baggies of cocaine in his pocket. What luck! He scored free coke from those fuckwits. Good timing too, because he was almost out. He needed to get in touch with his dealer. As he walked, he silently ridiculed the people around him. He noticed the fat girls lining up at the hotdog and pizza stands, stuffing themselves with junk because they couldn't get fucked by any man; the old bags sitting upon the benches, gossiping among themselves about their unfaithful husbands, not realizing that their sagging tits and their rancid breaths were the root cause of their misfortune. He sneered at the hobos slouching about, doing nothing. Everyone else was a loser, while he's on top of the world. He headed back to the station, lighting up a fresh cigarette, wondering how many more idiots he'd have to deal with for the day._

 

Gasping, Charles woke up to see nothing but darkness. Someone had turned the lights off. What time was it already? What day? He didn't even know anymore. He felt an itch between the crack of his ass, but he couldn't even scratch it. He couldn't move because he was still in his restraints. He thought about those boys he caught and wondered if Weyland was the father of one of those delinquents. He would have to ask Weyland once the other shows his face again. When would they remove this fucking mouth restraint from him, anyway? He slept again to get his mind off that itch in his crack. 

He immediately woke up when he felt a gloved hand touching his inner thigh. He thought it was that son of a bitch Weyland, but it was only Hank. He murmured a silent prayer of relief that it wasn't that bum puncher groping him. He shifted his vision upwards and he suddenly squinted because Hank had turned on the overhead lights and it shone harshly into his eyes. He quickly realized that he could see with both eyes now. The gag was also removed from his mouth and he exhaled a sigh of relief, waggling his tongue about and licking his arid lips as if to exercise it. Hank had also removed the I.V. from his arm and the catheter attached to his cock. He looked down as Hank inspected his wounds. Hank had shoved something oily up his ass, some medication perhaps and he understood that was the only reason Hank's hands were on him. Noticing that he had just woken up from his slumber, Hank removed his medical gloves and disposed of them in a small plastic bag on the bedside table. He then held out a bottle of water to Charles. Charles rudely snatched it from him and drank from it hastily, taking down the water in large gulps. The doctor didn't seem to mind his behavior and offered him something to eat.

"You're probably hungry. What would you like to eat? I'll send Creed for something from the commissary if you'd like. Something that's easy on the stomach. I highly suggest that you eat soup for now or perhaps some soft foods so that it wouldn't upset your stomach."

Charles shook his head, his expression insolent."I don't wanna eat."

Hank's expression fell. Was Charles planning to starve himself to death?"You have to eat something, Charles."

"Fuck you! You can't make me! Weyland wants me to heal up soon so he can rape me again, am I right? Well, I'm not gonna give him that satisfaction!"

Hank stared at him hard for a long while before getting up from the bed and leaving Charles' company. Shortly after, he returned with Weyland in tow. Charles had anticipated this and had wanted the bastard to show his face.

"What's this I hear about you not wanting to eat?" Weyland demanded, scowling down at Charles.

Charles returned the director's hostile stare."Fuck eating! I don't remember when we last talked, but do you recall your promise to me? That if I have a recollection of something about our past, you'd let me go. Do you remember that?"

Weyland looked put off."Hank brought me over for this nonsense? Well, let's have it then."

"Did you have a son who's also a crackhead? Are you seeking revenge on his behalf?"

Weyland stared at him blankly for a full minute and then he uttered a jeering laugh, rolling his eyes at the other."That's it? That's the best you can come up with? Unfortunately, you're off the mark, Mr. Xavier. Better luck next time. Now eat your meal! Don't make this any difficult for Doctor McCoy!"

He turned his back on Charles and was about to leave, but Charles vehemently shouted his refusal to eat.

"Go fuck yourself, you fucking queer! I ain't eating anything!"

That stopped Weyland in his tracks. He turned around slowly and gave Charles that same cold stare he reserved only for him."What did you say?"

Charles defiantly kept his chin up, nostrils flaring."You heard me!"

Hank could only look upon the exchange silently. Now Charles was really going to have it. He wanted to prevent Charles from getting hurt any more than he had endured, but the other refused to cooperate. Weyland stomped back towards the bed and grabbed at Charles' throat, partially strangling him. Charles was still too weak to fight, but he seemed to gloat over the fact that he got a rise out of the director. However, his amusement was short-lived.

"Hank, get Mr. Creed."

"Weyland-"

"Get him over here!"Weyland shouted angrily, causing Hank to flinch. The doctor beat a hasty retreat and when he returned, he brought Mr. Creed along. Weyland smiled cruelly. He released Charles from his grip, reducing the other to coughing fits.

"Take him to the feeding cell."

_Feeding cell? What is that? Are they going to force-feed me?_ Charles attempted to undo Creed's grip on his wrists, but the other grabbed him and slung him on to one shoulder. Charles screamed and fought, but it was like fighting against a brick wall. Weyland and Hank followed as Creed brought Charles into the dreaded feeding room. The room was painted over with a gray color and smack in the middle of the room, a feeding chair, complete with straps and restraints, with a table laid out with force-feeding equipment. Charles screamed afresh upon seeing the chair. He'd seen prisoners before in state penitentiaries force-fed in such chairs and he knew it was a painful process. He used to laugh when he saw it happening to a resistant inmate, but now that it was about to happen to him, he didn't think it was funny at all. He turned desperate eyes towards Hank and Weyland.

"I'm sorry! I'm going to eat now! I won't do it again!"Charles wailed, eyes bugging out as Creed shoved him into the chair and began to shackle his ankles and wrists using the restraints attached.

"I'm afraid you'll keep on defying me unless I teach you this lesson, Mr. Xavier," Weyland said, his voice dripping with false regret. He always took delight in Charles' suffering.

Hank handed the director a fresh pair of latex gloves he produced from his doctor's coat and then Weyland strode towards the table. He had a can of Ensure ready, a thin force-feeding tube, a large syringe and a gag for Charles' mouth. Charles couldn't help it as tears welled in his eyes upon seeing the director draw closer to him, feeding equipment at the ready. Weyland was going to be the one to 'feed' him.

"You seem quite familiar with what I'm about to do to you, so I take it you've seen such a method when you were formerly a cop. You've seen the inmates reduced to blubbering and begging when fed in this manner, haven't you?"

Charles' lower lip trembled, unable to answer Weyland. His thoughts swung between defiance and submission. Hank went to the table as well and handed Weyland a bottle of water-soluble lubricant to ease the tube down Charles' nostril.

"I suggest that you don't move around too much if you don't want this to really hurt, Mr. Xavier," Weyland said in a soothing voice filled with taunting.

Creed had attached the mouth clamp on Charles before he could scream out some more and beg for mercy. It was secured tight and it looked similar to a ball gag, but it had a teeth and gum guard included in the design. He could only utter muffled cries at this point, tears and snot streaming from him. Hank went to him and placed a steadying hand upon his shoulder, shaking his head slightly. Hank was silently advising him not to struggle anymore, but Charles couldn't help himself. His body trembled slightly against his will. He was still recovering from his rape and his beating and now this? Weyland gleefully placed the end of the tube upon Charles' nostril and slowly eased it down even as Charles jolted in his chair at the shock of its initial entry. Despite the thinness of the Nasogastric tube and the Surgilube coating it, it hurt like hell. The director knew the method of force-feeding and he did it expertly. He didn't want Charles to contract an infection from bruising or incur any internal damage. Charles was already gagging and writhing about in extreme pain and the tube was only halfway down his throat.

"Control your gagging, Mr. Xavier and stop swallowing,"Weyland commanded him.

Charles managed to follow Weyland's instruction even through a haze of pain. It pleased the director to see Charles behaving himself. He gently touched Charles' jaw and continued to slide down the tube until he reached the assumed limit. Charles stopped struggling because it didn't hurt so much, except for the area around his nostril. That was still stinging. Hank then handed the syringe filled with Ensure over to Weyland and the director injected it into the tube. Charles jolted in his chair again as the liquid snaked down the tube and gurgled around his insides. Tears continued to stream down his agonized face as he looked from Weyland to Hank, willing for this to be over soon. Weyland gave him that usual cruel smile of his.

"Certainly hurts, doesn't it? There's a trick to it, you see. The trick Mr. Xavier, is not minding that it hurts."

Charles could only look up at him with abject terror, wondering what other monstrosities Weyland had in store for him.

When it was over and the director was taking out the tube, it began to cause Charles such extreme discomfort that he was wriggling and writhing in his seat again, his face crumpled up with pain. The director finally removed the tube, but Charles' nostrils felt raw and red after. It almost felt like the bastard raped his nose with a tube and it hurt him to such an extent that he couldn't seem to stop sobbing. Creed brought a wheelchair in and placed Charles into it. They took him back to his room and this time, Weyland asked to be left alone with Charles. Charles was lying in bed, curled over on his side and facing away from Weyland, still trembling slightly and struggling to control his sobs. Hank had given him a pain reliever for the pain, but it hasn't kicked in yet. He was wary that they didn't restrain him this time.

"Have you learned your lesson yet? You know, the more you fight me, the more I'm going to beat you down. So I have another proposal for you. You used to enjoy pain. Would you prefer pleasure over pain for your punishment after the month ends? That is, if you fail to find the answer to our little wager."

Weyland meant his desire for bondage games and S&M play before. Those had been different. At least back when he played with his whores, it didn't involve him getting this hurt. It was mostly erotic asphyxiation and belt whipping. He turned to face Weyland, wiping fiercely at his face and angered by the powerlessness he felt. It showed upon his expression and the other just ate it up, enjoying his misery.

"Well?"Weyland said, quirking an eyebrow and waiting for his response.

"P-Pleasure."Charles stammered.

The director smiled and nodded."Good choice. Had you chosen pain, I would have handed you over to Shaw in a month. I'll leave you to rest for a while to think things through. As you can see, you aren't restrained this time. Hank will be monitoring you remotely and he'll be switching shifts with Mr. Creed in that aspect. If they see you attempting to do any self-harm, a gas will be released to knock you out before you can do so. I'll be monitoring you along with them. In the meantime, please eat the meal on the table and stretch and walk about in your new room. We need you fit and healthy in a month's time."

Weyland sighed, pleased by how things turned out and left Charles by himself. Charles saw that a meal had indeed been left on the table for his consumption. He looked up and he saw the cameras overhead, watching him from all angles. He didn't want Weyland punishing him again so he ate the meal they laid out for him. Same as before, all utensils and even the plates were made of plastic. When he finished his meal, Mr. Creed came in to clear out the dishes. Hank then came to visit him next to check on his condition and to give him some medication. The doctor helped him with washing up and attending to his toilet and once done, they left him alone again. He sat in the bedroom for hours, with no clock to tell the time with.

 

Left to his own thoughts, Charles couldn't think of anything but this hell he's going through. He couldn't take any more of this pain. He wanted to die before he gave Weyland the satisfaction of breaking him, but the will to live outweighed his yearning for death. The reason for this is his desire for revenge. Still, a part of him has lost the will to survive due to the loss of his masculinity. Weyland took pleasure in humiliating him and it enraged him that he couldn't avenge himself against the other. Weyland had planned everything out, even finding the means to prevent him from killing himself. Either way, he was on the losing end no matter how much he fought against that bastard. He must outsmart Weyland somehow and to do that, he had to feign his own defeat. He could act like the willing victim. No one outside of this institute has to know about his humiliation. Once the opportunity presented itself, he could find the means to escape on his own or if not, he could die by his own hands. The days passed by as he mulled over possible escape plans. He didn't aggravate the director any further as his body healed. Weyland, in turn, didn't visit him for a long while. From time to time, he tried to recall where he had met him because that bet was still on. He thought up of several theories, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions like he did with his idea of the two schoolboys he caught before. He hated the fact that Weyland seemed confident that he will not recall anything, even stating the terms of his punishment beforehand and somehow, he was beginning to believe that he will fail. He informed Hank of his wager with the director and shared his memories of the past. Hank relayed the information for him, but each time Hank returned from his meeting with Weyland, the doctor shook his head regrettably. Charles was at his wit's end. He didn't know when the month would end because no one would tell him what time and date had passed. He tried counting the days, but he couldn't recall when day one or two started and so he assumed his own countdown will be inaccurate.

He saw himself in the mirror one day and he could see that despite eating his meals, he began to lose weight. Instead of making him look older though, it made him look younger. Perhaps with no bad habits to hold on to, his health was actually improving. They allowed him to exercise in his cell, eat healthy meals and entertain himself with books. He wasn't allowed any television this time. He had his own bathroom so he could attend to his hygiene at any moment, albeit with no privacy. There's a camera in the bathroom and they've probably watched him pissing and shitting. He didn't care for Hank or Creed watching, but knowing Weyland was watching him all the time made him feel disconcerted. The next day, Hank visited him, carrying a valise and looking uncomfortable.

"Have you taken a bath, Charles? It's Mr. Creed's shift and I haven't asked him about it yet."

"Yeah, I've bathed. Why do you ask?"

"Please follow me into the bathroom. I need to perform an enema on you."

Charles' brow furrowed at this."What for?"

"Weyland asked that you be ready for his visit."

Charles couldn't hide the revulsion in his face, his shoulders sagging down lifelessly. He knew what this means. It means Weyland wants to fuck him again. The month was already up. He lost the bet.

"Pleasure over pain," Charles muttered under his breath.

The director's idea of 'pleasure' was raping him. However, he did remember that he agreed to this as his punishment, instead of having Shaw beat him. He chose this because if Shaw keeps pummeling him to near death, it might break his body beyond repair and prevent him from escaping. Charles gingerly followed Hank into the bathroom so that they could begin the process. It mortified Charles to have Hank touching him in the ass and having the other shove a tube up his asshole to clean out his bowels. After they were done, they went back to the bedroom and when Charles turned his back on Hank, the other injected him with something, knocking him out. This was a dirty trick they always pulled on him whenever they wanted to subdue him. He didn't know how long he was out, but when he woke up, he felt groggy. The lights had been dimmed down. He reached out to touch his face and then he realized what Hank had done. Hank had shaved off his beard while he slept. He touched his smooth cheek contemplatively. It has been years since he last shaved off his beard. He felt naked without it. That wasn't the only thing that was naked about him. He didn't have any clothes on beneath the blanket Hank had covered him with.

"You're finally awake," Weyland said in a low voice.

He didn't even sense that the bastard was in the room with him. He hadn't seen the son of a bitch in a long while and seeing him again made his blood boil with anger. Weyland's ghostly blond hair seemed to glow in the dim room. He sat close to Charles and the other pulled away, quaking with disgust. The director just laughed it off and reached out to touch his arm.

"Did Hank already clean you? He asked that I don't go rough with you this time and that I should prep you before I penetrate you."

Charles didn't say anything in response. He wanted to hold his tongue this time. He didn't want the man roughing him up or giving him to Shaw. Weyland turned him around so that his back was to the other and then Weyland kissed his shoulder. Charles shuddered in revulsion, flinching every so often as Weyland kissed his back and the nape of his neck. He didn't fight back or retaliate. It took every ounce of willpower in him not to punch the bastard in the face. This man claimed to hate him and yet he's touching him so intimately? What's up with that?

"Is this a good enough foreplay for you?"Weyland said in a throaty voice and Charles only responded by uttering a muffled cry, his upper lip curling. Weyland had taken his shirt and his suit coat off, but he kept his pants on. He forced Charles to lie back in bed and stopped for a moment to lubricate Charles' hole. Charles felt the squelch of some slippery fluid slathered upon him and then Weyland slowly shoved a finger up his ass. Charles tensed and trembled, his legs almost clamping close, but Weyland stopped him.

"Keep your legs open."

Even though he was sickened by Weyland's touch, he obediently parted his legs, allowing Weyland to continue violating him. Weyland started with one finger at first and then two fingers, thence introducing three fingers in the mix. Charles writhed and sweated, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from screaming curses at Weyland. He hated him so much and he wanted to kill the raping motherfucker with his bare hands, but he had to do his bidding for now. He felt no pleasure from the bastard's touch, repulsed by his fingers. When Weyland felt that he was ready, the other straddled him and poised the tip of his cock at Charles' hole. Before he shoved his cock in, he whispered something into Charles' ear.

"We'll make a proper woman of you yet." Weyland taunted and then he kissed Charles' cheek before thrusting into him violently.

Charles grunted and groaned as Weyland raped him. He avoided looking at the other's face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he attempted to think of something else other than this violation. He suddenly thought of his long-dead son, of his deep regret, losing him to an accident, causing him to say his son David's name out loud. He'd like to think of this as a punishment for being a neglectful father.

Weyland stopped pummeling into him to stare at his face intently. Gasping, Charles met his stare. There's still some defiance there, but there's also despair. That was enough to break Weyland's leash. He attacked Charles with even more fury as he fucked him all night long.


	5. Chapter 5

 

He was too busy focusing on his suffering under the clutches of these lunatics, that he overlooked the crumbs they've been feeding him; the bits and pieces that would have helped him understand his predicament. This thought just dawned on him as Weyland's hips pounded into him while he was on his knees upon the mattress, grasping tightly at the headboard to keep himself from falling forward. He could feel Weyland's breath at the nape of his neck as the other grunted with each thrust, the bed juddering with his violent bucking motions. He could feel the slick force of Weyland's massive cock as it slid in and out of him. His skin prickled as the other pressed his chest against his back, their heat and sweat mingling. Besides, it was too late to think about any of that now. He had failed to grasp his situation in time. He's trapped and the only thing keeping him alive was Weyland's desire to humiliate him and make him suffer.

Despite this, he wanted some confirmation from the man himself. He has this theory that's been stewing in his mind for a while now. He thought that he may have indirectly caused Weyland some suffering by spurring on his incarceration into this facility. The other was probably someone he had arrested before. He has many enemies, both in the force and among the scum of the city that he couldn't tell how many people he had aggravated. Hank divulged a most compelling detail by telling him that the director was once a patient here. If this was the case, then the man he knew as Weyland was evidently using the institute's namesake as an alias. The director had been dropping hints, here and there for him and he felt like such an idiot for not catching on. Weyland tortured him because these were the things the other suffered as a patient in this place. Hence, this form of revenge. Be that as it may, if he did have any hand in sending Weyland to this institute, he would have remembered it. He didn't even know this place existed until a court ruling sentenced him here. He also couldn't recall when he had encountered Weyland or if they even really shared a past. It was possible that Weyland may have dyed his hair the blond color that it is now and may have undergone surgery to change his appearance. Somehow, he had to find out the truth.

"You're not really Weyland, are you?"Charles said and then he suddenly gasped out as Weyland grabbed his hips forcibly to pummel into him.

Weyland didn't answer him at first. He turned Charles around so that he could see his face as he fucked him. They gasped and breathed over each other as they moved.

"Why are you asking me that now?"

"Hank told me you're a patient here once. What's your real name?"

Weyland grinned wickedly, licking his lips as he grabbed Charles' wrists, forcing them down on to the headboard above Charles' head. He did this with one hand while using his other hand to grab Charles' thigh. He pulled out until only the head of his cock clung to Charles' hole and then he roughly canted his hips forward, causing Charles' eyes to bug out at the sudden intrusion.

"Aaahhhh!"Charles cried out hoarsely.

"Finally using your head, eh? I was beginning to wonder if you're even really a cop. Then again, I can't blame you for not thinking things through. You were in... constant pain. I can understand why it prevented you...from understanding the situation." Weyland said this, albeit haltingly, without stopping the bucking motions of his hips.

"Then who-" Charles said tightly, unable to catch his breath as Weyland pounded faster and harder into him.

"Knowing my name won't enlighten you any further, Mr. Xavier, but I'll tell you my real name anyway. It's Erik Lehnsherr."

With that, Erik suddenly parted his legs wider, grabbing the back of his knees and giving him one violent thrust. Charles didn't know why, but he suddenly felt a brief jolt of pleasure when the other did that, causing him to turn his head to the side, his expression aroused. He was hoping Erik didn't notice it, but the other did. Erik frowned down at him, slightly baffled. Charles probably wasn't even aware he was making such an expression. Charles' demeanor quickly dissolved into pain as Erik kept him in that position. Erik thought he may have imagined that look on Charles' face. He didn't wait for the other to recover. He turned him around and shoved him back on to his stomach so that he could fuck him from behind again.

It was like this every day. 'Weyland' would come into his room at night to rape him, then he'd leave Charles in a tangle of sheets near dawn, the bed soaked with semen and a mixture of their sweat. Charles would stagger towards the bathroom to rid himself of that bastard's come and then the process would repeat itself the next day. To his embarrassment, Hank would still perform enemas on him every once a week, inspecting his backside, making sure that he's healthy and free of any internal damage.

He woke up afterwards to find that Lehnsherr had already left. He always lost consciousness whenever they had sex because the man was just relentless. He didn't know where that asshole found the stamina to fuck him the way he does. He realized he was no match for the other even when he had done orgies or threesomes with his whores back when he was a cop. Limbs trembling, Charles got up from the bed and hobbled towards the bathroom, going straight to the toilet. He expelled Lehnsherr's semen from his hole and then he took a warm shower. He suddenly remembered feeling that sliver of pleasure from Lehnsherr and he shook his head vehemently at the memory of it, pressing his head against the tile wall, closing his eyes and willing the water to wash it all away from him. It was nothing. It was just something akin to a knee-jerk, an involuntary spasm, nothing more.

After his bath, he went into the bedroom and removed the dirty sheets, airing out the bed before laying out fresh sheets he has access to and climbed up on the bed to rest. He felt drained, used up after Lehnsherr violated him, but his body was getting used to it. It didn't hurt as bad as it did before. He drew the covers up over himself, heaving an exhausted sigh and then he went back to sleep.

When Hank came in to give him his lunch later in the day, he told the other that he finally knew Weyland's real name.

"So he's told you that."Hank nodded to himself as he took the chair opposite from Charles, watching him as he ate. Charles suddenly stopped eating and then he laid down his plastic utensils, running a hand through his hair, feeling like he's the world's biggest idiot.

"When you told me that he was a patient here, I should have known. I was so fucked up because of the things he did to me. I think it would've helped with my bet with him if I had told him that. He may have been someone I've booked in."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"He told me that knowing his name wouldn't enlighten me. Do you think he meant that I won't remember anything even if I know his real name?"

"Well, do you remember anything?"

Charles shook his head wearily, looking down at his food."No,"

"Then I suppose knowing his name isn't enough. You have to dig deeper into your memories."

"I guess so."

Charles continued eating while Hank kept him company. Hank seemed sympathetic towards him and occasionally stayed to get into a conversation with him. He was once his psychiatrist after all even though he was formerly a patient of this psychiatric facility. Charles stopped for a moment and looked up at Hank intently.

"What happened to the original staff in this place? You mentioned that most of the current staff were inmates of this institute. So tell me."

Hank suddenly looked away, his expression one of discomfort. At first, Charles thought that Hank wouldn't be able to tell him anything, but then the other met his eyes, despite looking pained.

"Let's just say that before Lehnsherr took over the institute, the situation hadn't been ideal for us. The guards and orderlies treated us worse than animals. Lehnsherr managed to pull off a coup and led the inmates into an uprising in one night. He told us not to kill the staff. Instead, he ordered us to put them in the cells, using chemical restraints on them to avenge ourselves for their brutality towards us. Please understand, we only did what they had done unto us."

"They couldn't survive the same medication they forced on us. Some of them died in their cells. Some of them went mad, while some submitted themselves to Lehnsherr's will. He convinced them to go over to his side like he did to some of the high-functioning inmates. Lehnsherr made arrangements for all the inmates working under him to have false identification and documents. In return, he gave us a place where we can be ourselves, where society can't judge us and where we are free to do whatever we want."

Charles dropped his spoon and fork on to his plate, staring at Hank with wide, horrified eyes. How could the government let something like this happen? Were they not aware of this? These crazy people have gotten away with what they've been doing for years. It appalled him beyond words.

"What about their families? Surely someone looked for them. Someone must have asked questions!"

Hank shook his head."Most of them didn't have close family ties. Even if they did have wives, we sent fake letters to some of them, asking for a separation or a divorce. We falsified death certificates for some. In short, we closed the institute off to everyone else. We sometimes get requests for interviews or inspections, but Lehnsherr dissuaded them somehow. He's our mask of sanity to the outside world so that we could continue living freely. No one would have thought up of doing something like this and yet, he was able to pull it off!"

The doctor sounded like he admired what Lehnsherr had done. Charles could even see it in the other's expression. It shouldn't have surprised him anymore since they are all lunatics here. Charles dreaded asking this question, but he had to know.

"What happened to the real Weyland?"Charles said in a small voice.

Hank eyes suddenly widened and then he quickly placed a trembling hand over his mouth, unable to say what happened to the real director. His brow furrowed anxiously. Charles' question seemed to have thrown him off guard.

"Tell me!"

Hank just shook his head, almost wanting to bolt from the room.

"Is he still alive? Yes or no? That's all I need to know!"

"Yes. He's alive."Hank said tightly.

Charles straightaway lost his appetite, staring down at his food which had become a tasteless mess to him and wondering if he'd made the right decision to stay alive. Maybe he would have been better off dead. Seeing Hank behave like this frightened him. He could only imagine what horrors the former director endured. Would he suffer the same fate or did Lehnsherr plan something more abominable for him? He pushed his plate away from himself.

"I'm done. I can't eat any more of this."

"I'll have Creed clear them right away," Hank said, sounding almost relieved.

He immediately left the room, almost rushing out of there and then Creed followed suit to clear the dishes. Hank did not return for a long while even though it was his shift. Charles looked up at the overhead cameras, wondering if Hank was watching him. He has a brief understanding of how his prison cell works. Cameras installed in all four corners, as well as a mechanism in the walls that could release a sleeping gas if he tried to do anything violent. Since they controlled the room's lighting, the cameras were probably set up for night vision as well. There aren't any objects in the room that he could use for self-harm. If he touched the chains, they will catch him before he could strangle himself. If he attempted to bash his own brains against the wall, they will stop him from doing so. His thoughts went back to escape strategies because there wasn't anything else he could do. He had played out different scenarios in his head, but each one fell short. He couldn't make a move unless they allow him more freedom. He wondered if he should go ahead with his plan to act like they've broken him. If he did that, then that might give him the opening he needed to make another bid for his escape. He kept his face expressionless as he looked up at the camera again.

 

Erik Lehnsherr watched Charles from the centralized security feed from his computer and it almost seemed as if they were gazing at each other through the screen. He may have informed Charles of the security features of his cell, but he didn't tell the other about the covert listening device installed in the room. He heard everything Charles talked about with Hank. He leaned back in his seat, placing the tips of his fingers together beneath his chin, thoughtful over something. He went back to that fleeting memory of rapture on Charles' face and he wondered if it wasn't his imagination after all. What else could he do to get a rise out of that man? Lately, he began to notice that raping Charles didn't seem to have much of an impact anymore. The other just got used to the violation, as if he was tolerating it. That's not what he wanted. He wanted Charles to become addicted to sex, to become so dependent on him to the point that Charles couldn't live without him. Once he has accomplished this, only then could he break Charles. With Charles' addictive personality, he can surely get the other hooked into the act.

His expression perked up when an idea came to him. He tapped on the touchpad of his laptop, minimizing his security feed to Charles' cell and pulled up a file from his computer's file folders. He accessed the recording he made of his interview with Moira MacTaggert. He listened to the recording once more and then he smiled to himself. Of course. Charles hated real intimacy and this probably goes back to that time when his son died. He closed himself off to feelings because he couldn't deal with what happened in the past. He rubbed his chin, devising plans on how he could use this to his advantage and then he called for Hank.

He watched as Hank entered Charles' cell, advising him of another visit from his superior tonight. Charles just shrugged listlessly, as if he couldn't care less. He followed Hank into the bathroom to get his ass cleaned out. Erik smiled as Charles jumped up in shock when Hank began to shave off his pubic hair after the enema. He heard their conversation through the bugging device installed in the bathroom.

"What the hell are you doing to me?"Charles hollered.

"Lehnsherr asked me to do this."

"What the fuck for?"

"I'm only following orders, Charles. He wants you shaved down there. If you don't want him to get mad at you, you have to let me do this."

Charles trembled slightly, barely able to suppress the murderous look on his face. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, he relented and allowed Hank to shave his pubes.

"Fine! Do it then!" Charles snapped out angrily.

Not only did Hank shave his pubic hair off, Hank also used a lube injector on him to prepare his backside. Erik began to laugh as Charles sputtered out curses his way. Charles haughtily went to bed, taking his clothes off and fuming as he waited for his tormentor's arrival after Hank left.

 _That's my cue_ , Erik thought as he left his desk and headed for Charles' cell. He had advised Hank not to monitor the security feed to Charles' room this time. He entered the room and met Charles' sharp stare as he drew closer to the bed. He took his suit off, along with his button-down shirt. He laid these out on the table. He removed his shoes, socks, and his belt and then he climbed into bed with Charles. He had gotten used to seeing the loathing in Charles' eyes, but he's aiming to wipe that look away by the time he's through with him.

Usually, Charles would turn his head away as Erik fingered his backside to loosen him up and he was doing the same thing again. Erik smiled to himself, quietly leering at what was about to happen and then he began to fondle Charles' cock gently, running his palm over it. He tightened his hand into a fist and started to give the other a handjob. Charles immediately snapped his head forward, meeting Erik's insolent gaze. Charles looked puzzled, as if he wasn't sure what was happening, then his expression changed into apprehension.

"S-Stop!"Charles stammered, but Erik ignored him. Erik's eyes lit up when he saw that Charles was growing half-hard in his palm. He quickened his motions, causing Charles to wriggle around the bed restlessly, his face becoming flushed. He looked away, closing his eyes to this act, groaning resentfully. He didn't want this! As Erik's fist moved faster, Charles couldn't help it as his hips moved of its own volition. He was losing it. He didn't want to feel any pleasure from the other, but his own body was treacherous. He knew Erik could see his reaction. Even so, it was too late to stop now. He kept his eyes closed because he couldn't take it anymore. Before he could orgasm, however, Erik suddenly stopped.

Charles' eyes flew open. The stalled climax made him feel an aching, wrenching feeling from within. After all, he hasn't gotten a decent orgasm in a long while. He turned desperate eyes towards Erik, wondering what the other was up to. Erik suddenly inched backward. He knelt between Charles' legs and then he bent his head forward, his face drawing near Charles' groin. Charles didn't think he would ever see such an act like this done to him by another man. Erik was intending to give him a blowjob! Of all the nightmares he'd had of homosexuals, this was the one thing he had abhorred receiving. It disgusted him that this fucking queer was going to suck him off. He tried to move away, shaking his head in his adamant refusal, but Erik pinned him down, holding his wrists in both hands. He tried to kick Erik away, but the other used his knees to prevent Charles from knocking him off. Charles' lower lip trembled, helpless as he watched Erik's lips coming closer to his cock. Erik licked the tip first, kissing it once and then he bobbed his head forward to suck at Charles' cock expertly.

"Ahhh!"Charles cried out, throwing his head back and shuddering in revulsion. Despite his disgust, he couldn't deny that Erik's blowjob made him feel good. Of course, he's a fucking fag. Why wouldn't he be an expert on this?

Even though he hated it, he couldn't prevent it from happening any longer. Erik licked and sucked him gently, almost lovingly that he couldn't recall ever feeling this way from a blowjob. He'd had whores sucking him off sloppily, sucking him hard and fast, but this was on a different level. Erik had released his wrists and his legs, knowing that he was subdued by the ecstasy he was feeling. Charles turned his head about restlessly, eyes closed as he savored it, his trembling lips working as if in a silent prayer for more and then Erik began to quicken. His movements were rhythmic, exquisitely skilled that it sent Charles soaring higher. He moaned louder without realizing he was doing it. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He would reach out to touch the top of Erik's head and then briefly becoming aware of his actions, he'd let go of Erik's hair and grasp at the pillows desperately. He vaguely wondered if Erik was going to swallow his cum.

He was going to come this time, regardless if Erik suddenly stopped just to spite him. It had built up within him for so long that there's no stopping it. Erik sensed it, too. Charles' hips were bucking up into a frenzy, brow furrowed as he anticipated his impending orgasm. Charles did look quite fetching for man. That pale skin, smooth and nearly hairless beneath his hands. That effeminate face the other hid behind his beard. When Erik had met him for the first time, he already had that ginger beard. Erik suddenly reached for Charles' balls, gently caressing them, sucking the other off passionately and strongly that Charles finally lost it. His come erupted into Erik's mouth in a hot spurt, thick and copious. Erik had expected as much because he knew Charles hadn't beaten off since he got here. He heard the strangled little moan coming from Charles' mouth and it pleased him. He swallowed Charles' come without hesitation, taking it down his throat in steady gulps. He eventually released Charles' cock, licking his lips and watching Charles' face intently.

Charles was gasping breathlessly, still recovering from that amazing blowjob. It enraged him that the man he has hated so much made him feel this way. He thought to himself that no one outside of this institute has to find out that this happened. He could just tolerate it, the way he had tolerated the constant rape he endured from the other. He thought that Erik would fuck him now as he usually does, but Erik surprised him again by doing something else. Erik went back to licking his still sensitive cock, doing it ever so softly, tongue flicking about in a slow seduction.

"No, stop! I can't! I'm still-"Charles begged, tears streaming down his face, but Erik ignored him once more. As he licked Charles' cock, his fingers slowly crept towards Charles' backside. It was already moist due to the lubricant Hank injected into Charles' hole earlier. He slid two fingers in and this time, he was prodding around, searching for that sweet spot that Charles probably didn't know he had. Charles was blushing furiously, like a virginal girl, trying to close his legs together, but Erik stopped him from doing so by grasping at his inner thigh and holding it down. He finally found the spot. He pressed down on it and it rewarded him with the desired reaction from Charles.

"Haaaahh!"Charles cried out waveringly, his expression sweetly lost, like he couldn't understand how this could feel so good. He shuddered uncontrollably, legs twisting about in a restless manner, toes curling like he couldn't stand it, but simultaneously, he didn't want it to stop. His hands were already clawing at the sheets and the pillows and then he placed a hand over his face as if he wanted to hide what he was feeling. Erik chuckled cruelly and continued to jab and prod at Charles' prostate, causing Charles' hard-on to rise full throttle. It even induced Charles' nipples to stiffen, the nubs becoming pink and erect. Charles moaned and writhed around, glassy-eyed, his face slack and confused.

Seeing Charles' pert pinkish nipples excited him. He moved to straddle the other. He didn't want to just stop there. He wanted Charles to lose himself in this lusty act. He bent close to Charles' chest and kissed the other's nipples. He flicked his expert tongue from one to the other nipple and then he began to suck and nibble at them playfully. It sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing right through Charles, as his nerve endings came alive because of the intense sensation he was feeling. His back arched up for more, unable to stop his blissful moans. Erik kissed him and touched him in places he never thought possible would bring so much pleasure. He didn't know why, but his hole was starting to feel strange, quivering and somehow yearning for something, like he wanted something in him. Erik sensed the desperate need in him. He reached for Charles' hips, hands sliding down to his thighs and then he folded Charles' legs towards his chest. Charles didn't bother feigning protestations. He was obviously too aroused to even refuse the pleasure Erik offered up to him. He parted his own legs, giving Erik a sideways glance and unconsciously licking his lips in anticipation.

That look on Charles' face was just too much. Wanting to tease him further, Erik rubbed his own cock sensuously against Charles hole, slathering their combined juices around, but he didn't take too long with the taunting. He was near his limit as well. He entered Charles backside with a seductive slowness that it was enough to drive Charles crazy with lust. Charles couldn't control his own hips as it canted forward to meet Erik's fuck into him. He didn't care if Erik saw his desperation. Erik positioned himself differently this time. He was aiming for Charles' sweet spot just so he could up the ante and once he found it, he pounded into the other with such wild fury that it sent Charles howling with wanton abandon. He wrapped his arms around Erik, holding on to him for dear life as the other fucked him hard. The bed juddered around more violently than it ever did before as they fought each other for purchase, fiercely attacking one another in a sexual frenzy. Erik actually started moaning as well, unable to control the cries of pleasure that wanted to escape his throat. Something was happening between them, something strange, deep and primal. They both surrendered to it and as much as Erik wanted to deny it, it felt good fucking Charles that night.

Where did this intensity come from? Was it because of their mutual hatred? Erik didn't waste his time in processing these feelings. He just went with the flow and enjoyed the sex. Charles came first, his body jolting up and his expression dissolving into total ecstasy. Erik came afterward, a strangled groan issuing from him as he pressed his face to Charles' throat, licking and kissing at the other's sweaty skin. They both fell silent during the afterglow, with only the sound of their ragged breathing filling the room. When they recovered, they went at it again with such savage insistence that it almost seemed as if they were fighting each other.

 

Despite their mutual craving for the act, Charles was the first to beg for a ceasefire. They've been at it for hours, and Erik had made him come so many times that he wasn't sure if his body could still take any more of it. He was already at his breaking point. Breathless and gasping, Charles pushed weakly at Erik's sweaty chest, wanting the other to get off him.

"Stop! I can't anymore. I can't!"Charles begged, but Erik just wouldn't stop. He was still hard and he told Charles so.

"I'm still hard."

Charles looked like he was about to cry, his face crumpled up in exasperation."What? Haven't you had enough?"

"No."

Erik gave him a wicked smile and then he began to thrust into Charles once more, ignoring the other's frantic and wide eyes.

"Please! I can't take it anymore! I'll break! Please stop!"Charles cried out, but again, Erik paid him no heed. He did what he wanted. He would keep fucking Charles regardless if the other lost consciousness and then Charles really did pass out. He suddenly grew quiet, eyelids fluttering and shutting close. Erik looked down at the limp and yielding body of his conquest, whose face was a mess of tears, his body gleaming with sweat and looking so defenseless. Erik didn't know why, but seeing Charles like this turned him on. He wanted to keep fucking Charles over again, hungering for more. It's like a switch was turned on inside him and it just wouldn't go off. He kept fucking the other until Charles regained consciousness, only to find Erik's cock still in him. Charles began resisting him afresh, pushing away at him with no real strength.

"It hurts! It's gonna tear me! Please!"Charles begged and sobbed, holding on to Erik's cheeks and wanting it to just be over. Erik grinned at him insolently.

"If you answer my question, I'll stop. However, if you don't answer me truthfully, I'm going to continue this until you're a bleeding mess, got that?"

"Yes, I got it! I got it!"Charles said quickly, whimpering in desperation.

"Yesterday while we were having sex and you were asking me about my real name, did you enjoy what I was doing to you?"

Charles couldn't answer him at first. It crushed his ego that he was being forced to admit what he truly felt at that time. He had wanted to forget about it. Avoiding Erik's gaze, he finally murmured his response.

"I did."

Erik's grin widened. He wasn't imagining it after all. Charles was starting to enjoy having sex with him. Because of Charles' admission, he pulled out slowly and carefully, causing Charles' body to shudder, his face scrunching up at the pain he felt. His hole felt raw and he could feel the hot stream of Erik's come dripping from him. He squirmed and moaned as Erik got up from the bed and zipped up his pants.

"Fuck!"Charles moaned into his pillow as he rolled on to his side, squirming around because his ass was sore and stinging.

"What are you swearing about? You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Charles flung a murderous glare towards him."Just fuck off already, you raping asshole! I didn't enjoy it!"

Erik made a face, chuckling snidely."Aren't you contradicting yourself? We both know what happened."

Charles uttered incomprehensible curses, infuriated that Erik did these things to him. Erik didn't bother to ask for clarification on what he said. He got what he wanted and he was satisfied with it. He left Charles to clean up after himself. When Erik was gone, Charles stopped raging and stared up at one of the cameras, wondering if someone recorded what happened between him and that crazy bastard in this room.

_Have I lost my mind? Why did I do that with him? Why did I let it happen?_

He asked himself these questions as he was lying in bed. He could still smell Erik's cologne, as well as the other's sweat upon his skin. He could feel Erik's cum still trickling from his backside and on to the sheets. Even the other's body heat still lingered on the bed. He closed his eyes and wept quietly, wondering if he could continue coping if this happens again. Erik was up to something that was why he did these things to him today, that much he knows. He would like to think that the only reason why he reacted to Erik's touch was that he was becoming unbalanced like everyone else in this place. Surrounded by all these crazy people...of course, he would also come unhinged. He must find a way to endure. He mustn't let Erik break his mind. He's stronger than this. He wiped at his eyes and slept, too exhausted to clean his backside or even shower.

Creed found him still looking like this when he entered the room that morning. Creed had come in earlier, bringing his breakfast, but after seeing that he's still in bed, Creed placed his food on the table and left without waking him up. However, upon returning, he saw that Charles still hasn't gotten up. Worried that Charles had gotten sick while on his watch, he shook the other awake.

"Wake up! Are you sick?"Creed said abruptly. This was the first time Creed has ever shown any concern for him. Charles slowly got up from the bed, his body still sore and his backside still raw. Creed saw how sickly he looked and immediately left to fetch Hank. Moments later, Hank entered the room, carrying his valise containing medical paraphernalia.

"Damn it! I told him to go easy on you! Let me have a look," Hank said grimly and pulled the sheets away to inspect Charles. Creed still stood at the doorway, looking on at the proceedings.

Charles groaned and opened his legs so that Hank could assess the damage.

"Last night...he just wouldn't stop. He kept going and going-"Charles said feebly, his entire body shivering.

Hank grimaced over how raw Charles' backside looked and then he touched Charles' forehead.

"You have a fever and there's some micro-tearing. I'll take care of it. In the meantime, I'll tell Erik not to do anything with you tonight."

Charles nodded gratefully at Hank's words. Hank guided him towards the bathroom to clean up. He had to hang on to Hank because he couldn't even remain standing. His knees felt so weak and his hips ached that it made him walk like a geriatric. After Hank took care of him, Creed assisted him with eating and then the other left him alone as well.

He thought Erik wouldn't come around that evening because Hank had told him off, but Erik came into the room anyway, looking him over.

"How are you feeling?"

Charles exhaled a weary breath and leaned back on his arms, giving the other a dry stare.

"What do you think?"

Erik scoffed at his sarcasm."That was actually a rhetorical question."

Uttering a derisive laugh, Charles turned away from Erik and rolled over to his side on the bed. He thought Erik was going to continue taunting him, but he suddenly jumped up in shock when he felt a gentle hand stroking the hair away from his forehead. He quickly turned to face Erik, looking bewildered. He slapped Erik's hand away.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"For a moment there, you looked like a sick little boy and I thought it might console you if I did that."

"Don't touch me like that! I don't need it!"

Erik just laughed at his peevishness and went to pull up a chair closer to the bed. He sat in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, a snide smile on his lips. He was intending to stay longer just to annoy Charles.

"Ah, you still don't understand. I own you. I can do whatever I want with you. I get to decide what you do or don't need. The next time I fuck you, I want no more insolence from you. Unless of course, you want Shaw raping you with a metal rod. Even Hank won't be able to fix that with any surgery."

Charles thought up of things he could say to piss the other off, but he just didn't know if doing so might push the wrong buttons. Erik's acting rather strange. The fucker might even rape him, regardless if he's still injured. It hasn't stopped him from doing so before. Charles went into a staring contest with the bastard, but then he realized, he couldn't hold it for very long. Erik's steely-blue gaze was too intimidating. Perhaps it also has something to do with the lowering madness from within the other's gaze. It was there, but restrained. Was this why everyone else in the institute feared him? Charles eventually looked away and then they just both sat there, silently contemplating each other's presence.

 

"Come closer," Erik said huskily as he gestured for Charles to draw near. A couple of weeks had passed since they last had sex and Charles had already healed. He was sitting close to the headboard of his bed, glaring at Erik. He didn't have a choice. As much as he wanted to defy him, he knew he was only making it harder for himself. He relented and sidled closer to the other and Erik reached for his arms to embrace him. Erik began to kiss his neck and his shoulders, licking his skin, tasting him; he could feel Erik's other hand sliding up his thigh, gently caressing it. Why was this bastard being so gentle with him?

Erik still had his pants on, but Charles was already naked. He continued attacking Charles with kisses, his lips slowly trailing down to Charles' chest and then he suckled upon one of Charles' nipple while rubbing the other nipple between his fingers. Charles couldn't understand why they suddenly became so sensitive. He didn't feel anything before when someone else touched his nipples. Erik grabbed his legs, forcing him to lie back and then the other rained kisses upon his stomach, thence going to his cock. Erik licked and kissed the tip, the other's tongue working him over and then Charles felt his cock stirring. He turned his face away, closing his eyes as Erik delved into it. God, how can this fucker be so good at sucking cock?

"Ahhhh!"Charles cried out involuntarily and then realizing he voiced his arousal out loud, he reached up to clamp a hand over his mouth, his cheeks flushed. He gave Erik a sideways glance and he could see the other smirking at him knowingly. It was infuriating. Erik kept right on strongly sucking him same as before, and then he suddenly stopped just when Charles was nearing his climax. He wanted to cuss Erik out for stopping, but he kept himself in check. It's because Erik had suddenly stopped and it annoyed him, causing his erection to flag down. Erik carefully reached for his cock and Charles shivered slightly at the touch.

"I have something for you."Erik murmured against his cheek and then he showed him a cock ring, pulling it out from the pocket of his pants. Charles had seen something like this before in a sex shop, but had always thought that only homos were into using this kink. The one Erik showed him was made up of leather straps and metal rings with button snaps. If he puts it on, it would cover the length of his penis.

"Let's put it on, shall we?"

Charles could only watch as Erik slipped the cock ring on to his manhood. He was still half-hard down below after Erik had worked on him, but with the cock ring on, he felt a strange, yet pleasant tightness building up around his cock. He was getting harder again and not wanting Erik to see, he tried to close his legs over it.

"Let me see!"Erik said in a taunting voice, parting Charles' legs. When he saw how hard Charles was getting, he chuckled insolently, putting Charles to shame and making him blush, a trait Charles has no control over. Whenever he felt truly embarrassed, he would blush.

Erik released him for a moment to stand up and remove his pants. He had never done that before. Charles watched as Erik undressed before him and he couldn't help but feel envious of his physique. The long torso, the muscular shoulders, and sinewy back, as well as the other's cock. He's a man and yet seeing that Erik's cock was bigger than his, made him feel a sense of self-pity. Before he could further explore his thoughts on penis envy, Erik climbed back into bed and reached for him.

"We'll do cowgirl-style this time," Erik said and then he laid himself out on the bed, guiding Charles on to his lap. Charles had to brace himself upon Erik's chest. He could feel the other's muscular body beneath his palm and he felt the sting of jealousy come over him once more. Of the many months they had confined him, he not only lost a lot of weight, his appearance had softened. He saw how he looked in the mirror recently and his once solid physique was now reduced to that of a boy. No wonder Erik had the strength to subdue him so easily. Erik positioned his cock right at Charles' backside and slowly guided Charles' body down over it. Charles groaned softly as he felt the length of Erik's cock sliding up into him.

"Move your hips. You can hold on to my chest if you want."Erik murmured as he placed his hands upon Charles' knees, waiting for him to obey the order. Charles' upper lip curled, like he was about to say something snide, but stopped himself. He remembered Erik's warning. He began moving his hips. He wasn't really into it and he just moved around without much energy. Erik actually sighed tiredly.

"Are you trying to bore me to death? Must I do all the work? Here!" Erik said and then he reached for Charles' shoulders and began pounding up into him with rough insistence. Charles cried out as a delicious jolt of pain stabbed right through him, followed by these aftershocks of pleasure that pulsed from his cock right up to his entire body. His cock became so hard that it actually hurt. Goosebumps rippled all over his skin as Erik continued to throw his fuck into him.

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!"Charles cried out, trembling helplessly as Erik fucked him over and over. He had no control over his reaction to Erik's pleasuring. It clearly showed on his face. That disheveled look, eyes glazed over as he gasped for more. Erik stopped moving his hips at this point, grinning up at Charles wickedly. Charles was now the one moving his hips, hands restlessly caressing his captor's chest and completely losing himself in this act.

They were at it for a while, sweating and hot with their exertions. Without putting much thought into what he was doing, Charles tried to touch his own cock, wanting to play with himself so that he could come. His hands came in contact with the leather and metal rings that prolonged his erection and prevented him from coming. He looked up desperately at Erik, who had begun to pummel his hips up again to meet Charles' bucking hips. Usually, Erik would stop fucking him while he was in a state of climax, but with the cock ring in place, he couldn't come.

"Uhhh, please! Wanna cum!"Charles begged, not caring if he was debasing himself for doing so.

Erik just gave him a cruel smile. He sat up straight while keeping Charles on his lap. He grabbed at the other's waist and hugged him close, preventing him from escaping. He continued rocking his hips forward, thrusting his cock repeatedly into Charles' pulsating hole. The more Erik fucked him, the more this strange, aching thrill coursed through his entire body. It made him feel sensitive all over. When Erik's chest brushed up against his swollen nipples, he shivered, his head snapping to the side as a trembling moan escaped him.

That look on his face is such a turn on, Erik thought as he stared at Charles' heated expression, tears of agony coursing down the other's cheeks. Charles' own hips were bucking against him wildly, losing volition and just desperate to come. Erik's attention then went to Charles' lips. Red and full, slightly parted as he moaned, beckoning for a kiss. Erik's face suddenly loomed closer to Charles' face and before he could stop the other from completing the act, Erik kissed his lips.

Charles' eyes widened. He broke the kiss and then he tried to pull away."No! Don't kiss me!"

Erik disregarded his refusal and reached for his cheeks, drawing him close for more kisses. Erik kissed him passionately, his tongue sliding in between the other's parted lips. Charles drunkenly tried to fight him off, but he didn't have any strength in his body to push Erik away. He felt so light-headed, drunk on his senses as Erik drowned him in these pleasurable sensations. Even the kissing made him feel so good. He wrapped his arms around Erik's neck and returned the kisses, somehow surprising Erik with his compliance.

When he pulled back, a gossamer trail of his spit extended from his lips, still connected to Erik's lips for a few seconds before breaking off. His lips were sloppy, slightly puffed up from the kissing, eyes still looking drugged and lost in his lust. Erik gave him a lingering stare, drinking in the sight of him like this. Erik finally removed the cock ring from him and then rolled him back on to the bed to continue fucking him. Erik was thrusting into him with deep, rhythmic strokes. He deliberately made his movements slow so that Charles would really feel more of him. Charles had opened his legs wide, wanting to see Erik's cock driving into his dripping hole. His belly had become messy with his sweat and his pre-cum, his cock still engorged and about ready to burst. He didn't care if he was behaving in such a depraved manner. He just wanted to come. He bucked his hips up, grabbing on to the sheets frantically, keeping his eyes closed and moaning senseless things. He didn't know that he kept wailing out the words 'Fuck me!' to Erik. He had completely lost it. Erik smiled and gave him what he wanted.

The orgasm that came after was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He shuddered violently as an intense orgasmic high coursed through his body, wiping his mind clean for a moment that he couldn't think of anything else. Erik stared down at his face and he could see Charles' parted red mouth; a long, drawn out moan issuing from his lips, eyes half-lidded and looking stoned with an his expression that looked blissfully lost. He was utterly messed up and this was exactly what Erik wanted. He kissed Charles again and Charles actually reached out to hold him close, fingers grasping restlessly into his hair and wanting more of him.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Charles stared at himself in the mirror and he could hardly recognize himself. He had always hated his pale skin and now it stood out starkly before him, covered in kiss marks. They had shaved off his beard and now he's left with constantly seeing his boyish face reflected back at him. He hated seeing his face like this. His body had also become thin, but not to the point of emaciation. However, the biggest change was evident in his eyes. He looked lost...defeated and this was exactly what that cocksucker Erik wants to see. As he stared at his naked reflection, he felt a hand touch the back of his neck possessively.

"Let's do a bit of role play today, shall we?"Erik murmured into his ear and he flinched when the other licked his earlobe.

Was it always going to be like this? Constant sex? Perhaps this was why he had grown so thin. He thought that Erik might actually fuck him to death one of these days. No doubt, that crazy homo faggot had dealt this upon him as a form of punishment, because the other knew of his hatred for homosexuals. Nevertheless, he didn't think it would be this bad, but what would have been better? Torture under that Serial killer Shaw's hands or this relentless rape from this two-faced queer Lehnsherr?

Erik brought him a vintage suitcase, placing it on the table and when Erik opened it for him, he saw that it contained women's undergarments and a checkered coat lined with fur on the collar. There's even a pair of clip-on faux diamond earrings and a Swarovski crystal necklace included. Erik picked up a curly blond wig and brought it up for Charles to see.

"Your ex-wife Moira has been so kind as to divulge your lovely little kinks and I thought you might appreciate this gesture since you're now my woman. I apologize, though, that my contact in the mainland failed to acquire a brown wig, but this will have to do. Care to try it on?"

Charles slapped the wig away from Erik's hands, scowling at the other and cussing him out."Fuck you!"

Erik just chuckled."Ah, we'll get to that later. For now, put these on for me."

The director was wearing his usual military-cut suit, this one a dark charcoal gray color. He sat in a chair and gave Charles a pointed stare, waiting for him to comply. Charles just rolled his eyes and angrily snatched up the wig from the floor. He stopped for a moment, placing his hands on the table.

"Moira told you that I wear things like this?"

"Indeed, she did. During our interview relating to your case."

"She's lying!"Charles cried out tersely, slamming the wig back into the suitcase.

"I highly doubt that, Mr. Xavier. She was a very candid woman. A stuck-up cunt, but otherwise, I believe she's telling the truth. She told me that she saw you, prancing about in her lingerie, playing with yourself before a mirror when you thought she was away. She saw you, clear as day."

He could see that Charles felt betrayed by Moira. Still, Erik plodded on with his observations.

"Isn't that rather odd? You despise deviants and yet you wear women's underwear. Some might think you do this because you're a fetishist. Others might think you do this because you want to eschew these masculine gender norms that have restricted you, but do you want to know what I think? I think you wear these clothes because you want someone to subdue you and make you feel womanly."

"Bullshit!"Charles spat out, his expression insolent as he sneered at Erik's words.

"I think I've hit the nail on the head, regardless if you lie to everyone else and to yourself because I see the real you. You're just a cowardly little boy hiding behind your badge, acting like a big man so that no one will have to see how insignificant you truly are-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"Charles hollered out, his entire frame shaking. His eyes trembled within their sockets, almost in tears.

Erik just sarcastically rolled his eyes around, acting as if Charles' outburst bored him."Enough. It's like I'm talking to a whining schoolboy! Just put the underwear on and be done with it!"

Knowing the repercussions if he continued with his behavior, Charles complied with Erik's inane request. He reached for the black silk brassiere and slipped it on rashly. Erik lifted a tempering hand, gesturing for Charles to move with more finesse.

"Slowly, slowly now. I want you to put these on as if you are seducing me."

Charles narrowed his eyes at Erik, the other's perverted demands making him queasy. _Sick bastard!_

He obeyed Erik's request anyway. He turned his back and carefully locked the clasp on the bra. It fit him perfectly, with the cups already padded and lined with some soft material. He then picked up the black silk panties and slowly put these on as well. He met Erik's eyes and did as the other wanted, albeit with a withering glare. Erik's eyes actually glittered with keen interest. Charles then took up the chair opposite Erik and slipped on the silk stockings over his pale and smooth legs, one by one. When he lifted his eyes to look up at Erik, he saw the other licking his lips indecently, eyes languorous yet full of his sexual anticipation.

"You're a fucking pervert, aren't you? Maybe you'd even enjoy it if I tie you up!"

The other barked out a jeering laugh at that."Perhaps."

Making a scoffing sound, Charles picked up the garter belt and began to attach it to his stocking while sitting down, his back to Erik.

"No, stand up. Put your leg up and show me how you'll put it on."Erik said throatily, staring at Charles' backside. Charles' lips curled up into a derisive sneer and then he did as Erik instructed. He stood up and turned around to give Erik a coveted view of his body. The bottom of Charles' ass stuck out from beneath the panties, showing Erik how ample and round the other's buttocks looked.

Charles slipped his feet into the expensive-looking black pumps Erik brought along and it startled him that the shoes actually fit perfectly. When he wore Moira's open-toed heels, he could barely put his feet through them, they were that dainty, however, Erik must have had these shoes custom made for him. Once he finished putting the undergarments on, he reached for the coat and slipped into it as well. The coat also looked like it was pricey. Erik didn't care for expenditures as long as it satisfied him. The last thing Charles donned was the wig and the stylish little hat that went with the entire outfit.

"Now put some makeup on. I want to see you in full drag," Erik said, holding out the makeup kit for Charles to use. Charles applied the makeup on with practiced familiarity before a mirror. Evidently, he had used such a kit before. After he finished making himself up for Erik, he turned to face the other, quirking one eyebrow up.

"Satisfied?"

Erik pursed his lips, brow furrowing as he walked around Charles, drinking in the sight of him like this. He pointed towards the mirror.

"Play with yourself while you're looking in the mirror. Do it like you did before."

"Sick fuck!"Charles muttered under his breath and took his cock from out of the panties. He half-heartedly fondled himself as he watched his reflection standing up, causing Erik to shake his head.

"No! No! Not like that!"

He went towards Charles, dragging the chairs with him and then he placed one before the mirror while he positioned the other chair at the back of the first chair. He prompted Charles to take a seat on the first chair and then he took the seat at the other's back, placing his hands upon Charles' thighs, parting them open.

"Play with yourself as I watch you. Do it gently; do it sensuously. Pretend I'm not here. Take yourself back to that moment when you truly enjoyed yourself."Erik said in a guttural tone, his voice like crushed velvet. There's something almost hypnotic, yet forceful in the other's voice that Charles couldn't help but obey him.

Closing his eyes, Charles ran his palm slowly over his cock, tightening his hand on his shaft and moving his fisted hand, up and down in slow, mesmerizing strokes. Before he knew it, he began to stiffen, reacting to his own caresses. A soft moan issued from his lips, but he didn't notice himself doing it. He was too engrossed in his masturbation that he didn't care anymore. He quickened his movements, using both hands this time, slathering his own pre-cum over his cock. It dripped from him, spreading down to his balls. He was that aroused. He opened his eyes and he could see Erik hungrily watching both their reflections in the mirror. Erik slowly slipped off the fabric covering one of Charles' shoulders and then he kissed the rounded part of Charles' shoulder. He began to lick and kiss Charles' neck as the other continued to play with himself. Charles began to frantically tug at his cock, the need to climax overtaking his senses. Erik saw this and he suddenly grabbed Charles' wrists, interrupting his desperate bid to orgasm. Dragging him towards the table, Erik pushed him down on it and opened the coat rashly apart. He tore Charles' panties off, unzipping his own pants to take out his cock and then he violently penetrated him. Charles began to utter strangled moans, too aroused to stop the other from violating him. He opened his legs wide to receive Erik. He was only thankful that Hank had prepared his backside, lubricating him down there so that it wouldn't hurt when he and Erik had sex.

Erik pounded into him with the violent thrusting of his hips, causing Charles' head to hang over the edge of the table, giving him an upside-down view of himself receiving Erik's pummeling. The blood rush to his head made him pleasantly dizzy, his face becoming red with it. He could see the intense arousal on his own face, like a woman in ecstasy, his head restlessly rolling about as he moaned for more. So good, it was so damned good!

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!"Charles cried out and then his back arched up helplessly as he orgasmed, his head snapping to the side and his mouth growing slack with these rapturous sensations. Despite reaching the peak of his climax, Erik didn't stop fucking him. He hasn't come yet. Erik grabbed his waist, keeping their bodies connected and then he carried Charles towards the chair because he wanted the other see as he slipped his cock in and out of him while he sat upon Erik's thighs. Charles' belly was a mess of cum and it dripped down on to his equally messy lap, ruining the coat as well. Erik reached out to smear Charles' cum on to the burning skin of his stomach.

"You're so wet!"Erik purred into his ear and Charles could only shiver. He watched himself in the mirror as Erik fucked him repeatedly. He looked like a fucked up slut, his eye makeup melting down his face, forming dark raccoon circles around his eyes. It actually made the blue color of his eyes intense. His lipstick had smeared down on to his chin as Erik licked and kissed his mouth, spreading the lipstick even further. Charles could only tremble and moan as Erik kept thrusting into him with deep strokes, pulling out all the way until only the head of his cock connected him to Charles and then he would violently jab into the other, letting him feel every inch of his massive cock. Charles had a graphic view of his ass getting pummeled and he didn't know why, but it turned him on so much, even though he would never admit that to Erik. He came a second time, his entire body jolting forward as another moan of pleasure escaped his trembling lips. Erik carried him towards the bed next and continued to fuck him there, kissing him passionately. Charles didn't know where his mind went to. He didn't know how they ended up naked in bed, kissing ardently as he rode Erik's cock. He was sitting on the other's lap as he rocked his own hips for more. He was the one with his arms around Erik's shoulders, kissing him sloppily, his tongue slipping into the other's mouth and flicking about hotly. He didn't care for the cum dripping from him in rivulets, puddling down their laps in a hot stream. He just wanted Erik to make him feel good.

When he finally came to his senses, Erik was already zipping his pants up and looking him over with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"You're getting better at this. You aren't fainting like you used to."

Charles could only utter a complaining groan, turning his head away. Erik didn't wait for him to say anything else and as usual, left without saying another word. Charles remained in bed and although Erik's words stung him, the other certainly wasn't off the mark when it comes to some of his observations. Nevertheless, he refused to accept what Erik said about his desire for subjugation or to have others treat him like a woman. That can't be true. He thought of the times he belittled other men, making them question their ideals and getting a rise out of them.

 

_"Fucking hell! What kinda writing is this? Summers should get back to grad school for this shit!"Charles complained as he sat in a police van with two young officers new to the force.  
_

_They were about to make an arrest and Detective Sergeant Summers had prepared the paperwork for it. Scott Summers still wasn't promoted at that time. One of the officers made a face, but Charles noticed the other officer shaking his head minutely as if warning his friend not to react to Charles' words. Charles just stared at them impassively, smoking a cigarette._

_"What? You chummy with Summers? I don't care if you tell him. Let him know his writing's fucking sloppy. Maybe he should lay off rubbing one under his desk, eh? His writing's shot to shit, I kid you not!"_

_The blond-haired officer was becoming red in the face and Charles just sneered at him, enjoying his barely suppressed indignation._

_"You got something to say to me? I fucking dare you to say it!"_

_"I don't think you should say things like that about a fellow officer, sir." The blond officer said in a low voice, biting back the angry retort that wanted to rise up from him. Charles was still his superior after all._

_Charles smiled at him cynically."Are you for real? You know people like you won't get ahead in life with that stupid straight-laced attitude. You think I got my position because I was a prissy fuck? No! It's because people admire me for exerting my power. Isn't that why you became officers? I'm sure you call it something else. You call it respect. Isn't that right? It doesn't matter if people hate your guts even when your back's turned as long as they respect the badge."_

_Both officers exchanged dismayed stares, growing silent. Teasing these young officers came easily to Charles. He always liked rubbing people off the wrong way and these rookies were easy prey. He continued with his tirade._

_"Don't you see? It's not about doing the right thing. It's about serving yourself, like the selfish pricks that you are. You're no different from me. In the end, we're all shitpots in a failing system. Every officer for himself-"_

_The blond-haired officer finally snapped. "Shut up! Both my dad and my brother are officers and they aren't anything like you! They're good, decent, law-abiding men!"_

_"Is that right? Do I know 'em?"Charles taunted._

_"Alex-"The other officer with the light brown hair and narrow blue eyes tried to intervene this time, but Alex lifted a hand up to silence him._

_"Of course you know them! Chief Superintendent Christopher Summers and my brother, Detective Sergeant Scott Summers!"_

_Charles chuckled insolently."Oh, those fags? I saw them sucking off each other once at a division party. They-"_

_This was when Officer Alex Summers lost it. He began to beat Charles up for the filthy things he said. It's as if Charles deliberately wanted the young officer to pummel him to death. He didn't even fight back, giggling through a mouthful of blood as the other officer, Bobby Drake, tried to stop Alex. When Bobby pinned Alex's arms, drawing him away from their senior officer, Charles took this opportunity to punch Alex back, making sure to hit him where it won't be seen. When they arrived at the location where they were supposed to make an arrest, Charles' mouth was still bleeding, yet he kept smiling insolently as Alex and Bobby kept their distance from him, glaring at him like he was scum. The other officers at the scene were looking at them strangely. Later, when they went back to the station, Alex filed a report on the incident. However, nothing came of it because of Charles' connections. Consequently, the report only got Alex into trouble while Charles went on the mend from his beating._

_When he got back from his paid leave, he gave Alex Summers a pointed stare along with a sarcastic grin, causing the other to glower at him dismally. He was the reason why Alex had become relegated to some tedious desk work as his punishment. Charles passed by his table frequently just to gloat while Alex's brother, Scott, could only shake his head in consternation. Detective Sergeant Charles Xavier has struck again._

 

Charles blinked as he stared up at the ceiling, recalling this memory of aggravating other people, which he had found enjoyable at that time. Perhaps whatever is happening to him now was his karma for all the times he was an asshat to other people. He slowly got up from the bed, his hips aching slightly and then he padded barefoot towards his bathroom. He took a long shower and as he lathered soap on to his chest, he felt his nipple perking up at his touch. He uttered a soft moan and to his surprise, he saw his cock growing half-hard. How could he still be aroused?

"Shit!"Charles said under his breath. He knew Erik and Hank were watching him. He wanted to beat off under the shower, but he couldn't do so because they'll see. Not only that, if Erik sees him, he would just make fun of his uncontrollable arousal. Charles pretended to cover up his erection with a copious lathering of soap, but despite his efforts, his cock rose up so hard that it was knocking up against his belly button. He hunched himself forward, hoping the splash of water from the shower and the soapy lather would cover up his attempt to fondle himself. He moaned lustily, eyes closed as he quickened his motions. Then to his shock, he saw that his cock was still erect. Beating his meat off wasn't enough. He wanted something up his ass. He could feel an aching sensation within his hole and it sent a strange thrill of hurt throughout his body. He hurriedly rinsed off and then he went to bed without changing the sheets or the pillowcase on his pillows. He laid down and pulled the covers over himself. The lights were still on, but he hoped that with the sheet over himself, he could hide what he was planning to do. He moistened his fingers with his spit as he hid his face beneath the sheets to do so and then he slipped two fingers up his ass while he stroked frantically at his cock using his other hand. He could smell Erik's scent upon the sheets and he nuzzled his face deeper into them. It turned him on even further and he moaned and writhed under the sheets, aching for Erik's cock.

Of course, Erik and Hank saw what was happening. Erik began laughing to himself as Charles tried to hide his rock hard cock from view. Charles didn't even know that they could hear his moaning from within the bathroom and next, the bedroom as he wanked away. It was going exactly as Erik had planned it. However, it wasn't enough. He wanted it so that Charles was openly begging for sex from him with no more insolence afterward. He wanted Charles' desperation for it. As he kept watching Charles, someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," Erik called out, his eyes still glued to the screen. It was Hank. Hank saw what he was viewing on the security feed of his laptop.

"So you're seeing this too. Is it as you wanted it?"

"Not yet. I want him to beg me for it until that's all he could think about."

"I'm just glad I'm not in Charles' position. I can't understand how you could take him so intimately and keep on hating him. How are you able to do that?"

Erik chuckled, disregarding Hank's query."He's probably thinking the same thing."

He turned to look up at Hank, giving him a devilish grin."Turned you on, just watching us, didn't it?"

Hank blushed furiously at Erik's words."No, not at all! I'm not into that!"

"Oh, I know what you're into and frankly, I find it disappointing. You're supposed to make your pet obey you."

Hank looked away, still blushing."What I do with her is none of your business! I've kept out of your business, have I not?"

Erik just made a face and turned to look at the screen again, watching as Charles' sheet shook violently as he kept on masturbating furiously under the covers. Charles eventually uttered a strangled little moan when he came and shoved his face into the pillows, gasping throatily. Once he recovered, Charles lifted his face up on to his pillow, looking sated. He licked his red lips and sighed audibly. He sat up for a moment to pack his pillow down, pulling the covers up over his bare shoulders and then he settled down to sleep. As Charles slept, Erik smirked at his image from the security feed, thinking up of ways to make Charles submit to him unconditionally.

When Charles got up in the morning, it surprised him to find that instead of Creed, Erik was the one who brought his breakfast. Erik was still in the room waiting for him to wake up. He blushed hotly when he realized that he didn't clean up after himself last night and that Erik might smell his cum. He drew the sheet up over his lap when Erik came close to the bed.

Erik's eyebrow quirked up."Aren't you going to get up?"

Charles tried to hide his anxiety."I'll get up in a bit. What are you doing here? Where's Creed?"

"He's busy with something else."

When Erik didn't make a move to get out of his way, Charles put on a 'What the hell' look and just got up. Erik had seen him naked before anyway. He entered the bathroom and looked over at Erik, his expression curious. Erik didn't say anything. He just met Charles' gaze until the other looked away. Charles took a bath, brushed his teeth and then he wiped himself dry. When he stepped out, Erik was still in his bedroom. Erik actually made up the bed, putting the dirty sheets in the laundry hamper close by, which Creed usually clears away. Since he didn't change the bed after they had sex, Charles thought that Erik didn't notice his drying cum despite the strong chlorine smell, clearly evident from his bedding.

"Go on, eat your food," Erik ordered him.

Erik was standing between him and the table, where his meal was laid out. Charles tried to go around Erik to take his breakfast, but then Erik reached for his wrist and surprisingly, drew him close in a tender embrace. Charles was at a loss for words. He gave Erik a strange look, but before he could say anything else, Erik cupped his cheeks with both hands and kissed him passionately on the lips. The kiss was soft and full of warmth. Erik kept at it, nuzzling him gently until he melted against Erik's arms, knees becoming weak and eyes growing hazy with pleasure. Not only was Erik an expert at sucking cock, he was also great at kissing. Charles had kissed his wife and some other women before, but he'd never had someone kiss him like this. It's like Erik...loved him. Erik eventually released him and he swayed slightly from where he was standing. Erik had to reach out and steady him.

"Why?"Charles breathed out, his heated stare unmistakable. He absent-mindedly licked his own lips, savoring that kiss.

Erik shrugged."I just felt like it. Enjoy your breakfast, Charles."

With that, Erik left him alone, softly closing the door to his cell. Charles stared at the door for a long time, puzzled by the other's gentle kiss. That was also the first time Erik called him by his first name. He reached up to touch his lips with a trembling hand. What was that about?

He thought that was the only time Erik would do that, that Erik was just messing with him, but Erik came back into the cell, carrying his lunch. The tray he carried had a meal good for two. it was obvious that Erik planned to eat a meal with him. They ate silently at first and then Charles couldn't help but ask the question that was on his mind.

"What are you up to? What's with all this?"

"I just wanted to eat with you. Is there something wrong with that?"Erik said casually as he ate.

"You're definitely up to something," Charles said, eyeing him mistrustfully.

When Charles finished with his meal, he drank the water from the plastic cup that came with his meal and when he brought the cup down, Erik drew close and quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. Charles stared up at him, dumbstruck. When he looked up at Erik's face, he could see a strange fondness in the other's expression. It freaked him out.

"Stop fucking with me!"Charles shouted at him, angrily getting up from his chair, but Erik grabbed his wrist before he could move away and then the other embraced him, caressing his arms and his waist possessively. Erik didn't say anything, he just held Charles in his arms until the other calmed down. When Erik released him, Erik kept his eyes averted. He cleared the dishes away, putting them on the tray and then he gave Charles a tender, sideways stare. He left as he usually does, silent, without another look back.

He expected Erik to be the one to bring his dinner and he was right. Erik brought a meal for two and ate with him again. However, Erik did something different with him this time. Instead of sex, the crazy bastard said he wanted to stay over to read books with him. Erik did not touch him or get into a conversation with him. He just read quietly on the table, while Charles read his own book on the bed. He took his usual bath for the evening and when he got back into the bedroom, Erik was on the bed, waiting for him. He thought that this time, Erik was going to have sex with him, but the other shocked him again by doing the opposite of what he had expected. Erik said he just wanted to lie in bed with him.

"Cut the crap! You want to fuck me, right?"Charles barked out, his expression annoyed because Erik kept his face blank.

"I don't feel like having sex. I just want your body next to mine."

Charles sneered at him and drew the covers up in a huff to get into bed with Erik despite the other's weird behavior. He wasn't used to Erik acting like this. It startled him when Erik scooped him up into his strong arms and hugged him tightly, causing his face to become pressed against Erik's chest, drowning him in the other's scent and warmth. Erik pulled back a moment to remove his white shirt and he helped Charles into it. Charles had gone around the room naked after all this time. This was the first time he felt any clothes on his body since he was turned into Erik's sex slave. Erik buttoned the shirt up for him and he chuckled softly upon seeing his shirt hanging loosely around Charles. The shirt was too big for him. Charles was definitely looking like a little boy in his shirt.

"We'll have to get you some decent clothes."

Charles just gave him a suspicious stare, narrowing his eyes at him. Erik pretended to ignore it and then he embraced Charles and slept next to him, unperturbed that the other might attack him as he sleeps. Initially, Charles couldn't sleep. However, pressed up against Erik's warmth like this, he suddenly became drowsy that he fell asleep in the other's arms. Erik then opened his eyes momentarily, giving Charles a wicked grin when he sensed that the other was sleeping and breathing steadily. He had wanted to confuse Charles with his tender actions and he thought he had effectively accomplished that task.

Waking up, Charles thought that he would find Erik in bed with him, but Erik was nowhere in sight. Erik had left. Although Erik let him keep the white shirt on, he did not appreciate the other's gesture. Charles could still smell Erik's cologne on it. He reached out and smoothed the fabric against his body.

"That's it. He's fucking with my mind." Charles muttered and then he took the shirt off to take a bath.

Creed was the one who brought his breakfast this time and when lunchtime came around, Hank was the one who brought him his meal. Erik did not make an appearance. Even though Charles wanted to say it was a relief, he found himself...expecting Erik to show up.

"What's wrong, Charles?"

"Nothing. Why'd you ask me that?"

"You look distracted."

Charles scratched the back of his head."Erik's acting weird. I don't know. He's a crazy fucker, but I didn't expect him to-"

He suddenly stopped. If he told Hank what was happening between him and Erik, it would seem like he actually cared about what Erik does to him and what Erik thought of him. Just like a goddamned woman. When he realized this, his expression dissolved into silent fury.

_Oh, I see where this is going now!_

Hank noticed the change in his expression and became concerned."Charles?"

"That manipulative sack of shit!"Charles suddenly cried out, slamming a hand on to the table.

Despite Charles' sudden outburst, Hank remained calm. He waited to hear if Charles would say anything more, but Charles became conscious of himself and fell silent, glowering as he thought of Erik making a fool of him. Since Charles didn't say anything more, Hank leaned back in his chair, taking his glasses off to wipe at them thoughtfully.

"It's hard, isn't it? Being in a constant mind game with Lehnsherr? You're confused by his actions and yet you can't help falling for his machinations."

"Whose side are you on anyway?"Charles growled at him.

Hank shrugged."I'm on no one's side. I'm just stating a fact. You're at a disadvantage because you're his prisoner, he's your captor. All you can do right now is to cope with what he's doing to you or perhaps, you pretend to play by his rules in the hope that you could find a way to turn the tables on him. No matter what you do, you won't win against him."

"What are you saying then? That I should just accept things?"

"That's the most reasonable course of action you can take. It will keep you alive far longer than attempting to defy him. He's an unpredictable man and he's also dangerous. He may not look it, but I'm afraid he's more than your match, Charles. If he suddenly decides to kill you in the most ruthless way possible, he'll do that in the blink of an eye, with no hesitation whatsoever."

"Maybe I don't want to live anymore."Charles murmured softly. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, hearing Hank say these things to him.

"You know he won't allow you to die right now due to his desire to toy with you, but if you tell him that you'd rather die, if you incite him into killing you, he'll make sure to prolong your agony, to the point that you go insane before you die."

"You say these things as if you've seen him do this to someone before," Charles observed.

"I did see him do these things. That's why I'm not ashamed to say that I'm afraid of him."

Hank has always been straightforward with him and he appreciated the other for acting as a sounding board, even though he didn't like what he was hearing. Hank stood up to leave, but before he left, he informed Charles that Erik would have the island's only tailor come in to take his measurements so that Charles could have a new set of clothes to wear. Charles stared around at his empty room and he suddenly felt a chill run through him. He looked up at the camera and wondered if Erik was watching him.

 

Erik was indeed observing them and it fascinated him to hear Charles talking like this. He was in his lavish bathtub, with his laptop placed on a specially designed table, listening in on Charles and Hank's conversation as he bathed. He has a busy schedule that day that's why he had to leave Charles alone. Due to his need for perfection, he has always made sure that he accomplished his daily tasks as the director of the institute. Azazel has done an exceptional job of covering for him whenever he was busy playing with Charles. Nevertheless, circumstances would arise wherein his presence was necessary to keep things running smoothly within the facility. Erik stepped out of the bathtub and began to rub a towel through his blond hair, staring at his reflection in the mirror and admiring his buff body. He had a personal gym built within Weyland's grounds so that he could maintain his physique and he has his own bedroom, right next to his office. He hasn't gone home to his mansion in a long while. He thought of taking Charles with him, but he figured he would have to wait until the other has become more compliant. He slipped into a new pair of trousers and sneered inwardly. He was confident that he could turn Charles into a willing sex slave by tonight.

He sauntered into the room with an animal-like grace and the way he moved always drew other people's eyes towards him. Charles was no exception. Erik has this commanding aura around him that whenever Charles saw him, he would feel a mix of emotions running through him. He would feel hatred and fear. Perhaps he even felt a pang of jealousy that the other was dominant over him. However, the emotion he refused to acknowledge was that of lust. He thought that the only reason he surrendered to Erik's seduction was because of his isolation. There wasn't anything he could do, no one to interact with that his mind was beginning to stagnate. He also chalked it up to his instinctual bodily responses. Due to the constant sexual stimulation he received from Erik, he could think of nothing else but sex with him. He thought that was the only reason why his cock was becoming erect under the sheets as he waited for Erik to fuck him.

Carefully removing his suit and folding it neatly beneath his button-down shirt, Erik walked over to the bed, holding Charles' gaze with his own heated stare. He kicked his shoes and socks off, putting them fastidiously under the bed as he usually does. He unbuckled his belt and placed it on the bedside table, tightening it into a neat roll and just when Charles thought Erik would climb into bed with him, Erik grabbed him under the arms and made him stand up on the floor. He didn't say anything, his silence somehow unnerving Charles. Charles had even planned on blowing up on the other, to tell him off because he wanted him to know that he was aware of his schemes, but the words were struck from him. He could only hear Erik's even breathing, smell his familiar scent and heat. He guided Charles towards the wall where the chains were. This would be the first time that they would be using it. Erik clamped the shackles on to Charles' wrists, pressing him towards the brick wall. He caressed Charles' arms slowly, possessively. He lifted Charles' legs up, holding the back of his knees and making it so Charles would wrap his legs around his waist and then he kissed Charles with that unusual aching passion he reserved only for him.

Charles felt as if he was going to slip down, forcing him to grab at the chains while Erik kissed him torridly. He straddled Erik, locking his legs together by crossing his ankles, one over the other so as not to lose his balance. He could feel the press of Erik's cock against his own and he could feel the heat of Erik's flesh as it nestled up against him. Erik's tongue slid into his mouth seductively, forcing him to open his mouth wide and he jumped up slightly when Erik nibbled at his lower lip, the other sucking down on it, hard. Moaning into the kisses, Erik startled him once more when he began to grind his hips against Charles' hips, rubbing his erection against Charles' hardening cock. Closing his eyes, Charles just allowed Erik to do as he wanted. His eyes flew open, however, when he felt Erik slipping something up his ass. It felt like a plastic, egg-shaped ball sliding around in there wetly due to the copious amount of lubricant within. He could see Erik's face up close, the other's blond hair falling over his eyes as he made sure that the egg vibrator was all the way in and then he turned the switch on to the highest setting.

"Ahhhhh!"Charles moaned out, his body jolting upwards. Besides the vibrator, Erik still had his fingers up his ass. Erik slowly rotated the vibrator towards Charles' prostate, pressing down into it, causing Charles to make these helpless, strangled little moans, his hips spasmodically canting forward. His mouth dropped open as he reveled in these unbelievable sensations. He restlessly writhed against Erik, wordlessly begging the other to make him come. He didn't think it was possible, but Erik began to slide his cock into him, even with the vibrator still up Charles' ass. Charles quickly looked up at Erik, turning his body to the side in an attempt to break their union.

"No! Please no!"Charles cried out, eyes wide and horrified. Erik ignored his pleas and began to pump his hips in a piston-like motion into him, causing Charles to wail out loud as if Erik was torturing him. Not only did he ravage Charles with his cock, he jabbed the vibrator against Charles' prostate, increasing the sensation the other was feeling. Erik moaned, enjoying the vibrations and the slick tightness of Charles' hole. Charles could only wriggle around weakly as Erik fucked him like this. He struggled against losing himself to it, but it was too much. A crack, a fissure was forming upon his sanity and he was once again nearing his breaking point. Erik made him come so violently that he couldn't even scream. A breathless moan escaped him, with his jaw dropping open and his tongue hanging out indecently, his body stuttering against Erik in jerking, spasmodic motions. Erik leered down at him, enjoying his reaction. Charles went limp along with his cock after he released a great spurt of cum. It had splattered against Erik's belly and it slid down Erik's skin, leaving a hot, viscous trail. They both gasped and sweated over each other, the blood beat still coursing through their bodies.

"We're not done yet, Charles," Erik whispered against his cheek as Charles continued to shiver, still in the throes of his orgasm. Charles lifted his tearful eyes towards him, begging for release.

Erik smiled at him cruelly as he rummaged around his pocket for something.

"Do you remember when Hank put you to sleep and you woke up with your face shaved?"

Charles couldn't answer him. He still couldn't find his voice and he was still too fuck-stunned to find his bearings. Erik didn't expect to hear a response. He lifted a glinting, metallic object in his hands and showed it to Charles.

"Hank had put you to sleep that time so he could take precise measurements for this. I had this custom made especially for you. It's a penis plug. Its purpose is to stretch out your urethral muscles and give you a feeling of fullness. It will make you feel good. Don't worry! It won't hurt unless of course, you start struggling. You have to relax and you have to trust me. That's all you need to do."

Frightened of the prospect of having something dangerous-looking shoved into his cock, Charles began to tremble uncontrollably. He couldn't help it when he started to cry as he shook his head in his refusal.

"Please, I'll do anything. Anything but this!"

Even though he begged Erik not to go through with it, Erik placed the tip of the penis plug at his cock's entry, using some lubricant before he eased it down.

"Do you trust me, Charles?"

Erik held his stare and waited for Charles to brace himself, poised for the act. Charles knew he didn't have a choice. Erik will put it in even if he refused. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He met Erik's eyes with his agonized gaze, blue eyes tender and frightened, but he nodded, giving the other his assent. For a moment, when Charles looked at him like that, Erik felt a strange thump within his chest. The man he held in his arms was someone he had despised thoroughly with every fiber of his being, and yet seeing him so vulnerable, so helpless against him like this, he felt a minute tug of concern for him. He slowly guided the penis plug down the length of Charles' flaccid cock, making sure to allow the plug to slide down without forcing it.

Charles grunted and groaned, eyes narrowing to slits as he endured it. His sweat dripped down his body profusely that his legs almost slipped off Erik's waist, but Erik used his other hand to hold his backside, keeping him steady. Erik slipped the penis plug in so carefully that Charles did not feel any pain at all, only a strange fullness. Once Erik had it completely in, Erik released his cock and stared down at his handiwork. Charles shivered and moaned, daring to look at his cock and hoping he wasn't bleeding. He wasn't. His cock just looked erect with the penis plug in place.

With a feather-soft touch, Erik caressed that area above Charles' belly with his fingers, gently tracing down and then with the same light touch, he fondled Charles' cock. Charles couldn't believe how sensitive his cock had become, just with that. In a few seconds, Erik had him screaming with ecstasy as the other fucked his backside, his erect cock rubbing up against Erik's belly with the penis plug still on. The need to come was maddening. He was rabid with it, desperate to the point that he was drooling.

"Oh God! Wanna Cum! Please! Wanna cum!"Charles cried out hysterically, arching his back for more as Erik rammed into him, his expression crazed. He slid his arms around Erik's shoulders, holding on to the other tightly, kissing his face and his lips sloppily, begging to orgasm. That crack in his sanity had already widened, about ready to come undone. Although it seemed like Erik was prolonging his torment, he was mindful of how long he should keep the penis plug in Charles' cock. When he had reached the crucial point, he removed the penis plug, along with the chains. Charles fell to his knees, reduced to a quivering mess, tears and sweat sliding down his face as he touched his own cock, aching to come. The egg vibrator was still in him. He now looked like an addict desperate for a fix. Erik grabbed his arm and forced him to stand up. Charles staggered to his feet and followed Erik as the other pushed him on to the bed. Of his own volition, Charles opened his legs wide, holding on to his knees to keep his legs apart. His head rolled restlessly around as he invited Erik to fuck him in the ass.

"Please, fuck me! Fuck me hard!"Charles begged, giving Erik a come-hither gaze, licking his lips obscenely.

 _Ah, what a pretty sight!_ Erik thought as he stared down hungrily at his conquest. He took Charles up on his offer and he rammed into the other's hole so violently that Charles' eyes nearly bugged out at the other's brutal assault. He immediately came, but Erik didn't stop spending and fucking into him. That electrifying thrust gave Charles his first multiple orgasm and that was the moment that finally broke his sanity. He just floated off in his rapturous high as Erik kept on fucking him. When Erik was through with him, he stared down at Charles' blissful, spaced-out expression.

"Charles," Erik called out to him.

Charles smiled at him lewdly, his eyes lustful and blank as he turned around on his stomach and offered himself up, wiggling his ass around invitingly.

"One more?"Charles said in a throaty voice. He was looking up at Erik, but his eyes were vacant. Any thought of hatred towards his captor was gone from him. He didn't care about escaping or defying Erik anymore. He only wanted to fuck and that was all that mattered. Erik chuckled as he grabbed Charles' waist, giving him what he wanted.

 

Before Hank visited Charles' cell, he would usually meet up with Creed in the monitoring room. They had agreed on a three to four-hour shift due to their other duties, but mostly Erik monitored Charles during the night since he spends most of his time with him. Creed covers the morning shift, while Hank takes over the noontime slot. After that time frame, Creed would take the next four hours and then before Erik visits Charles, it would be Hank's turn so that he could prepare Charles' backside for Erik. For Charles' maintenance, he made sure to limit the enemas to once every two weeks, but depending on the need, he would use an anal douche to clean out the other, once every week. When he met up with Creed, the other looked disturbed. He wasn't even looking at Charles on the screen.

"What wrong?"Hank said and Creed looked up at him uneasily.

"He's strange today."

"Who?"

Creed pointed towards the monitor to Charles."He kept asking for you. He said it was urgent and he kept giggling, like a girl. It kinda freaked me out."

Hank's eyes narrowed at this. Did Erik succeed in breaking Charles? He left Creed and hurried to get to Charles' room. Charles was languidly lying on his bed, one leg swinging playfully to and fro as he read a book. He looked cheerful, even singing to himself. When he saw Hank, Charles quickly jumped down from the bed and went to him.

"Hank! I'm so glad you're here!"Charles said gaily and like Creed said, Charles began to laugh in a girlish manner. His uncharacteristic friendliness disconcerted his former doctor. Hank stared at him intently and saw how vacant Charles' eyes looked, somehow dreamy yet blank. Charles took up Hank's hand and made the other touch his rosy cheek, surprising Hank.

"I need a shave! Can you feel how rough it is?" Charles said and then he ambled naked towards the mirror, looking himself over.

"I think I also need a haircut. Oh, and I need a few other items, too! I need a different kind of soap, not that scentless one I've been using. Erik seems to like woodsy scents. Maybe you could include a bottle of cologne with the same scent? Erik said I can ask you for anything I need." Charles said in a rush as he smoothed down the back of his neck, seemingly conscious of his appearance...for Erik.

Hank stared at him, agog. He knew that Charles would eventually lose it, but not this soon. It left him speechless and silently appalled. Erik had finally broken Charles' mind.


	7. Chapter 7

 

"Aren't we feeling smug now?" Shaw said while leaning against the doorway to Erik's office. He went towards his superior, bending close to the table to stare at the security feed from his laptop. Shaw was also up to speed on Charles' situation. He was aware that Erik had broken the other's mind and that Charles now behaved like a willing sex slave. Erik looked amused as he watched Charles from his monitor while the other was taking a bath. Charles was singing as he vigorously rubbed soap into his armpits, a dizzy smile pasted on his face. He was also doing some silly dancing while in the shower. Erik looked up at Shaw and gave the other a leering grin.

"You don't seem convinced that I've broken him."

"What if he's faking it? You know he's a manipulative man and he's a liar."

"Well, care to test that theory then?" Erik said as he placed his elbows on the table, leaning on his arms. His lips settled into a cruel line as he stared up at Shaw.

Shaw quirked an eyebrow at him."What are you planning to do to him?"

Erik uttered a low laugh and turned his attention back to Charles."You'll see."

Sighing, Shaw sat on the corner of the table, narrowing his eyes at Erik."You promised me that you'll give him to me and my boys. When are you going to tire of playing with him?"

"I haven't fucked him out yet," Erik said as he gave him a wicked, sideways grin.

"Hurry up and be done with it! I just received some new meat hooks and I'm dying to hang him up on them."

Erik found it fascinating that Shaw could think up such terrifying yet imaginative forms of torture. "Do I get to watch you do this?"

Now it was Shaw's turn to laugh as he got up from the table. "I'll give you the fucking front row seat for it if you want. Hell, we can even invite the other inmates to watch while my boys fuck him! By the way, the inmates have grown tired of Weyland. Hardly anyone lines up to fuck him. They know there's some fresh meat on the block and they're dying for a taste."

"Weyland's still alive? You should have just killed him." Erik said nonchalantly as he flipped through his notes.

"I suppose I should. I've peeled off his entire back, but I don't even get a response anymore when I fuck him."Shaw said slowly, lifting his eyes to meet Erik's own.

When their eyes met, Erik's expression grew stormy as he saw the same recollection in Shaw's eyes of their darkest days under the real Weyland's supervision. The horrors Erik endured under Weyland made his blood run cold as he remembered them. However, Shaw probably held the most grudge for Weyland because the other had enjoyed torturing him much more frequently than he did Erik. Shaw hid the scars and deformities he incurred from that sadistic bastard under his uniform and he knew that Shaw's marred flesh still troubled him even now. It was for this reason that he couldn't even wear the Institute's summer uniforms. Erik got off the hook by agreeing to whatever filthy act Weyland wanted him to do, but the rapes weren't the only sin Weyland had committed against them. The former director had also done something far worse.  Weyland had experimented on many of the inmates, killing them and covering up their deaths which were the result of the experimental medications given to them. Erik and Shaw were only able to avoid the same fate by becoming Weyland's whore boys. That monster had told them they were too pretty to die and for years, Erik coped with the brutal raping he received from the other. Now that the tables have turned, Erik did not feel any pity for Weyland as the former director now became Shaw's personal bitch. He certainly deserved his fate. Even so, Erik really didn't care about avenging himself on Weyland. The man responsible for getting him locked up in this hell in the first place is none other than Charles. Charles' punishment was his sole purpose in life. Thinking about Charles sparked an idea within Erik's mind.

"You're aware that I have a personal grudge against Xavier. If I decide not to give him to you, you're not going to hold it against me, are you?"

Shaw frowned at this, evidently disappointed."Why the sudden change of mind?"

Erik grinned. "You gave me an idea by reminding me about Weyland."

He lifted his eyes to Shaw, looking at the other intently."So are you agreeable to this?"

Reaching out to straighten his cuffs to hide his burn marks, Shaw looked away before replying. "I'm pissed, but you and me, we go way back, Erik. You did me a good turn. I wouldn't have all this freedom now if not for you. Whatever you decide to do, I'll go along with it. I appreciate you asking me about it first instead of pulling the rug from under me."

"Of course. We're brothers after all."Erik meant that they became brothers due to what they had both lived through.

It was a pleasant surprise to hear Shaw talking in a civilized manner. Although Erik had his reservations when he gave Shaw his freedom, he knew the other wouldn't betray him or retaliate against him. Shaw was a known serial killer outside of this island, but somehow, he's more afraid of Erik than anyone else. Shaw knew what he was truly capable of and not many had seen this monstrous side of Erik. Only Shaw had seen it, on the day of their liberation many years back. Shaw tipped his hat at Erik and left as his superior continued watching the object of his intense umbrage.

Later, Erik called Hank into his office to discuss a plan he had for Charles. Hank was initially disturbed, seeing the usually belligerent Xavier acting like a girly boy, but he immediately got over it. It was just hard to see the once arrogant and standoffish man he knew behaving in a manner unlike his usual. He once recalled seeing Charles standing outside of a courthouse, wearing a dark coat over a loudly printed shirt and standing coolly, smoking a cigarette. His expression at that time was that of indifference, his eyes dull and disinterested, but this...whatever he is now, was immensely abnormal.

"He'll be expecting me to come to him tonight. Inform him that I've left for the mainland on a business trip and that I won't be around for a while. Don't give him any time frame. Let's keep him confused. Also, make a show of taking down the cameras, but leave the hidden ones in place."

"So he'll be stewing in that room for how long exactly?"

"Let's give it one month. Shaw's not convinced that I've broken him. Let's see how he responds to this treatment."

"As you wish."

With that, Hank left, curious as to what would happen to Charles once the month is up. Although he told Erik that he would not meddle in his affairs, he felt pity for Xavier. He had thought that Erik would hand Charles over to Shaw as a new plaything for him and the inmates, but Erik probably had something much more terrible in store for him. It made him wonder, is there something more to break in Charles?

 

Charles couldn't hide his disappointment when Hank told him that Erik won't be coming around. He looked about ready to cry. He had primped himself up for Erik, only to have Hank come in and tell him this awful news. His tear-filled eyes trembled in their sockets as he held his clasped palms close to his chest.

"When will he come back?"Charles said softly.

"He's on a business trip to the mainland. He might be away for months, depending on how long he'll be doing a circuit of lectures and institutional visits. There's a demand for Lehnsherr's expertise in the psychiatric field, you see. Since there's no need for us to monitor you anymore-"

Hank suddenly opened the door and Creed came in, carrying a long ladder and a utility belt. Creed began to remove the overhead cameras and after taking them down, the cameras were carefully put away in boxes. Creed carried the boxes out and then he came back to take the ladder away, Leaving Hank and Charles alone.

"What am I going to do now?"Charles said as he drew a sheet over his nakedness.

"All we can do is wait for him. The only orders he gave me when he left was to take care of you and to keep you company from time to time. If you want anything, I'll see what I can do to get it for you."

Looking hopeful, Charles suddenly got up to reach for Hank's wrist, tugging at the arm of his suit like how a little boy would do it, his eyes round and tender.

"Can I...Can I have one of Erik's shirts? Can I have one that he's recently used?"

Hank's brow furrowed at this. Of all the things Charles could ask from him, all he wanted was a used shirt that belongs to Erik? Charles could see Hank's expression and not wanting to gross the other out even further, he hastily explained his reason.

"I just want something of his! Something that has his smell on it. It will help me sleep at night so please, can you get me one?"

Charles didn't know that Erik was still watching their entire exchange from hidden cameras in the room. He smiled to himself. How quaint, to find that Charles has this sentimental side to his new personality. When Hank came into his office, Erik already knew what the other was going to ask him. He brought up a shirt that he just took off, wearing a new one he had pulled out of a package. He usually didn't wear the same shirt twice in a month and had numerous ones to choose from.

"Here. I heard the entire thing. What a joke!"Erik said, laughing insolently.

Hank took the shirt and folded it over one arm."Should I keep visiting him and conversing with him during mealtime? I think he's expecting me to."

Erik waved him away and went back to his desk."Yes, yes! Let him have that at least. I want to know what's going through his mind, the longer he waits for me."

Hank nodded at this and silently left. At least now that he didn't have to monitor Charles, he has more time for his Raven. He brightened at this and headed for a different area within the facility. Charles had never been to this side of the Institute. The path towards this wing looked more like a garden pathway, covered by a reinforced glass wall. He walked briskly until he arrived at a narrow structure that looked like a stone tower. He climbed up a narrow spiral staircase and then he finally opened the door to his Raven's room. Wearing nothing but a white slip and exposing her smooth legs to him, Raven jumped up in her seat. She looked surprised because she did not expect to see him so soon. She shrank away from him, trembling. He drank in the sight of her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with her almond-shaped blue eyes, long blond hair, fine features, and voluptuous body. She was just exquisite! Hank smiled down at her and closed the door slowly.

The next day, Hank gave Charles Erik's used shirt. Charles hugged it to himself and buried his face into it. It did have Erik's cologne on it, along with that other smell that solely belonged to Erik. Perhaps it was an exudation, like a pheromone. It was an unmistakable scent. Charles sniffed deeply at the shirt and sighed.

"It's really his. I wish he'd come back soon."Charles said wistfully and then he put the shirt on. He ignored his meal as he stared off sadly into nothing that Hank had to prompt him to eat.

"You might get sick if you don't eat. You want to be ready for him when he gets back, don't you?"

Hank's words effectively got Charles' attention. He sat up straight and began eating his lunch ravenously. As he ate, Hank noted that Erik's shirt seemed to drown out Charles' body. He looked more like a young man than a former cop. When Hank first met Charles, his body had been burly and he had a slight beer belly. To see Charles looking so slim and small was a drastic change. With his beard shaved off as well, Charles' boyish good looks intensified his juvenile appearance. He had frequently seen Charles' naked body and as the days at passed, he noted the other's waist becoming narrower and his pale, smooth skin becoming paler.

"Would you like me to bring in some dessert as well?"Hank offered. Charles shook his head as he scraped off the rest of his salad from his plate.

"No, I'm good. Can you please bring me some new books instead? I've finished the ones I have here."

To hear the once cussing Charles speaking so politely and looking up at him with imploring eyes astounded Hank to no end. What had Erik done to him to bring about such a radical change? He almost wished...that Raven would look at him the same way. He had Raven locked up in the tower for two years, but Raven still feared him. He was loath to ask Erik what techniques he had used on Charles since all he had seen Erik do was rape Charles incessantly. He wasn't able to listen in on their conversation because he had turned off the volume, repulsed to hear the indecent sounds they made.

"Yes, I'll get new ones from the library."

"Thank you. I'm glad I can still get to talk to you, Hank. You're a good friend."

Hank didn't know what to say to Charles' words and so he remained silent.

The days passed and even though Charles eagerly awaited Erik's return, he tried his best not to lose heart. Erik would see Charles quickly getting up whenever the door opens at night, but then his excitement would abate when he would see that it was just Hank coming in. Charles occasionally masturbated and strangely enough, he would suddenly look around the room, as if he was sensing something. It actually shocked Erik when the other voiced out his suspicions to Hank.

"I don't know what it is Hank, but sometimes at night...I feel like Erik's eyes are on me, like he's still here."Charles said in a low voice as he picked at his meal with a fork, lashes lowered.

Hank tried to hide his appalled expression. He almost looked in the general direction of one of the hidden cameras in the room, knowing that Erik was listening to this. He turned his attention back to Charles as the other lifted his head to look at him.

"I can't understand this feeling Hank. When I touch myself at night and I think of Erik, I feel this ache. I feel it on the tips of my fingers," Charles said and as if for emphasis, brought up his hands to show them to Hank and then Charles slowly, almost sensuously ran his hands down his chest to his belly.

"I feel it here too. It hurts, like something throbbing and growing in me. I don't know why."

"Maybe what you're feeling is longing, Charles. You just miss Erik that's why you feel that way."

Charles' sad expression was just heart-wrenching to watch."Yes, that's it. I miss him. Would it be possible to speak to him over the phone? Can you call him for me?"

Hank shook his head slowly."I'm sorry, I can't. Erik had specifically instructed that you are not to touch any gadget. Be it a telephone, a cell phone or a computer. We can't send him a letter too because he moves from one hotel to another."

"I see," Charles said sorrowfully and a tear even slid down his eye. Hank didn't know why he felt guilty, lying to Charles like this, but after Charles finished his meal, he left in a rush.

The days broke down into weeks and Charles frequently paced around the room in a restless manner. He began exercising, doing push ups and sit ups to keep in shape and then he would read his books, but then he would begin the restless pacing again. Then, Hank came in one day, looking excited over something that Charles almost thought it was about Erik. It was not. Hank only came in with a package containing his new clothes.

"The tailor even made some underwear for you, Charles! I've got seven pairs of trousers here and some shirts. I've also got you a pair of leather shoes. Why don't you try these on?"Hank said excitedly as he handed Charles his package.

For Hank's benefit, Charles tried to smile and put the clothes on. Hank had also brought in some socks for him as well, completing the entire getup. He put the clothes on and then he turned around so that Hank could give him a critique of his appearance.

"Definitely suits you. I didn't think the clothes would fit you, but they do!"

"Do you think Erik would like these?"

"Of course he will!"

Charles gave him a half-hearted smile and then he sat down on a nearby chair, looking wistful.

"How many days has it been? I wish he'd come back soon."Charles said softly, sighing and keeping his eyes averted. He then looked up at Hank and Hank could see tears streaming down Charles' cheeks, his expression anguished.

"Was I too eager? Is that why he didn't even say goodbye to me when he left? I don't understand why I can't see him! I want to be with him! I want to-"Charles stopped himself and wiped furiously at his face, suddenly blushing. Hank reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry. He'll eventually come back to us."

Erik watched the entire exchange from his security feed and placed his hand against his mouth to keep himself from barking out a bitter laugh. Charles was acting like a forlorn lover, desperate to see him. Erik found it fascinating that this new persona Charles had developed, behaved as if he was in love with him. He found it hilarious, like an ironic comedy of sorts. When Hank left the room, Charles stood up from the chair and stared after Hank for a long time. Erik saw something odd on Charles' expression. He looked like he was thinking deeply about something. Surprisingly, Charles strode over to the door and pulled it open. Of course, they did not lock the door in the first place. Charles actually looked incredulous that the door opened. Erik quickly switched the video stream to that of the passageway, to see what Charles would do. He wasn't concerned about a security breach. After all, Charles had nowhere to go to. He didn't have a means to escape.

Hank suddenly came bursting into Erik's door, about ready to apologize that Charles had left the room, but Erik lifted a hand to quiet him. They both watched from the security feed as Charles walked down the Institute's corridors, curiously looking around. The staff had been instructed at the onset to ignore Charles and to leave him alone. This was back when Charles was a new inmate of their facility. Even the guards just looked at Charles, simply standing there as the other walked past them. Charles was hoping he would not run into Shaw. Charles walked around, his round blue eyes roving about the area, until he noticed a passage he had never been to before. Hank's eyes suddenly widened when he realized where Charles was heading.

"He's-"

"Shut it! Let's see what he'll do!"Erik muttered as he stared intently at Charles. His security feed reached out even to Hank's private area.

Charles entered a passage that looked like a horticultural hothouse, the flooring laid out with flagstones. He looked around the place, his expression filled with wonder and then the area opened out to an actual garden. Charles walked down the path until he found a stone tower. He marveled at it for some time before forging ahead. He opened the door and saw a spiral staircase. He began to climb up the steps and that was when Erik lost his visual of Charles. He turned his attention to Hank.

"Do you have a security feed to your pet's room? Surely you do."

"Yes, but-"

"It's on your laptop, isn't it? Bring it here! Now!"

Hank immediately left the room to get his laptop, following Erik's orders. Erik had promised not to intrude on Hank's privacy, which was why he didn't have access to the security cameras in Hank's tower. Hank came back with the laptop and they barely caught Charles as he reached the top of the tower. Charles was now face to face with Raven.

 

This was the first time Charles had seen a woman in the Institute. Many months had passed since Charles' incarceration here, but his captors had always drummed into him that there aren't any women on the island. She was the only exception. The woman was young, with blond hair and blue eyes. He vaguely wondered if this woman was somehow related to Erik due to the similarity of their hair and eye color, but he couldn't see any close resemblance between them. She wore a white slip that looked demure despite exposing her arms and legs. It even covered her decolletage. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders and she looked frightened upon seeing him.

"Who are you? Where's Hank?"Were the first words that came out of her mouth. Charles instantly deduced that this woman was none other than Hank's pet. He carefully walked over to her and she stepped away from him. Charles stopped and placed a hand on his chest.

"I'm Charles Xavier. Please don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I'm just a patient here. What's your name?"

The woman's eyes widened and then she placed a hand over mouth."Oh! You're Charles! Hank talked about you! I heard him saying your name while he was on the phone!"

She suddenly grabbed his wrists and pulled him close."You're a prisoner like me, aren't you? Help me! Let's escape from here! Let's find a way out! Please, just help me!"

Charles suddenly had a dark memory of his first attempt to escape with Sean Cassidy. The aftermath had been terrible, but he knew he deserved whatever happened to him because it was his punishment. He pulled away from the woman's grasp, frowning. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, looking confused.

"What's wrong?"

"Calm down for a moment. You're scaring me."Charles said as he lifted his hands to placate her. The woman realized she was acting hysterically and willed herself to calm down. Although she was trying to pacify herself, her expression still looked frantic.

"Good. You didn't even tell me your name yet."

"It's Raven. Raven Darkholme. I've been locked up here for two years. They're all crazy here, you know? Lunatics are running this place! I was almost raped by the other inmates that's why I never stepped out of this room. This is the only safest place in this fucking madhouse!"

Raven's voice almost rose hysterically, but Charles lifted a hand again to calm her down. Raven realized she was upsetting Charles and so she strove to calm herself even further. They both sat down and Charles looked around curiously at her room. Her room looked better than his room because the walls had been painted a light blue and she had more furniture than him. She had her own stove and refrigerator. She even had a television if she wanted to watch something and a sound system if she wanted to listen to some music. Charles could see flowers in clay pots everywhere. It seems Hank made sure she had all the amenities she needed.

"So you belong to Hank, huh?"

Raven winced and nodded, biting down on her lower lip.

"I belong to Erik. Do you know Erik?"

"Who?"

"Oh, you don't know him then. He owns the institute."Charles said in a faraway voice as he thought of Erik. He suddenly looked over at Raven with dreamy eyes.

"How does Hank treat you? Does he ever touch you?"

Raven made a face and seemed almost offended by the question."No! He doesn't do anything disgusting to me! He just...likes to play house. Like I'm his wife or something."

She blinked, somehow bewildered by a revelation and then she realized that Hank had not touched her indecently or taken advantage of her over the last two years since she had been here. He always behaved like a gentleman towards her even though she had attacked him a few times when she first arrived in this place in her attempt to escape. She looked up at Charles and then it dawned on her that he had suffered a different fate from her.

"Did...Did this Erik do something to you?"She said hesitantly.

Oddly, Charles gave her a languid smile and began running a hand over his arm, his demeanor coy."He makes love to me. He makes me feel so good that it feels like I'm in heaven."

Raven's expression dissolved into horror when she realized that Charles had been brainwashed into behaving this way. She reached for his shoulders and shook him about. She looked close to tears.

"No! What have they done to you? Whoever did this to you, they don't love you! They just...They just-"

Charles suddenly looked aghast, even angered that Raven would say such things about his Erik. He pushed her away from himself.

"What do you mean? Erik loves me! I'm his slave! What else should a slave do?"Charles said, offended by Raven's suggestion.

Raven was openly weeping now, realizing that she couldn't enlist Charles' help because the other had gone completely insane. Charles was equating love with enslavement. She wanted to at least find a way to escape from this place and perhaps take Charles with her. It was because she felt sorry for him even though she just met him. Not to mention that with him in tow, she would be able to show proof of the hellish situation in this Institute. She reached out to hold his hands.

"Listen to me, Charles. I'm going to find a way for us to escape. I'll take you with me, whether you like it or not. You're not a slave. You don't belong to anyone but yourself!"

Charles finally had it with her. She was talking nonsense. He got up from the chair and stomped towards the door, his expression furious. Raven got up and tried to stop him.

"Wait! Don't go!"

Charles pushed her hand away, his face wrathful."I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about Erik like this! I'm not leaving this island! I want to stay here and wait until Erik comes back to me!"

"No, Charles! No!"Raven cried out, but Charles was through listening to her. He left her room hurriedly and rushed down the spiral staircase even as she called after him. Regardless if he ran into Shaw, Charles went through the corridors and the passageways until he found a way to return to his room. He flung himself upon the bed and began to cry softly to himself. He longed to see Erik. As he cried into his pillow, Hank and Erik watched him. Erik suddenly gave Hank a knowing grin.

"That's how you make them behave, Hank. I've been telling you that you should show your pet how to respect you!"

Hank shook his head weakly."I don't want to hurt her."

"Look how she's behaving! No matter how nicely you treat her, she'll keep defying you! She even tried to turn my slave away from me!"Erik said, feigning offense. He tapped a finger on the screen of his laptop.

"I should reward my slave for being so obedient. Don't you think so?"

Hank didn't say anything, his mouth pressed down into a thin line. The things Raven said did hurt his feelings. He had never mistreated her and yet she behaved like he would harm her at any given moment. Erik didn't bother waiting for a reply.

"Get him ready for me tonight. I think it's time I gave him a visit."

Nodding wordlessly, Hank left the room to prepare Charles for Erik. His mind kept going back to Raven as he walked about, distracted. An idea suddenly formed in his mind and it involved having her interact with Charles. If Charles would let Raven know what a good man he is, perhaps that would soften her heart towards him. He would have to instruct Charles on his choice of words. However, he would have to get Erik's permission to allow Charles to visit Raven and continue interacting with her. For now, he needed to give Erik what he wants. Namely, a night of sexual revelry with Charles.

 

Charles couldn't stop trembling as he paced around the room, waiting for Erik. When Hank told him the wonderful news of Erik's return, he could hardly contain his excitement. He had scolded himself for acting so eager and comported himself. He had been putting on Erik's shirt every night when he sleeps and he was wearing it now after he had taken a bath. Hank had also conveniently prepared his backside. The door suddenly opened and his breath caught in his throat when he saw that it was Erik who entered the room. He's finally here. Erik was wearing a dark blue suit this time and he gave Charles his usual arrogant smile. Striving to control himself, Charles kept his mouth shut.

Erik had deliberately left the door open, entering the room and standing close to Charles' table, waiting to see what he would do. Charles grew conscious of the open door and walked over to it to close it. He suddenly felt Erik's familiar hand touching the nape of his neck and Charles shivered at his touch. How could Erik move so silently? He didn't even sense the other as he moved closer to him.

"Look at you. You're trembling, just with the slightest touch."Erik murmured into his ear. He turned Charles around so the other would look up at him.

"Did you miss me?"Erik said in a throaty voice.

Charles still couldn't say a word to him. He was too overwhelmed by Erik's presence. Erik suddenly grabbed his arms and kissed him fervidly on the lips, his kisses gnashing and almost sloppy. Erik grasped at Charles' cheeks and then he restlessly ran his hands over Charles' back and his waist. Charles pressed his clasped hands to his own chest, unable to find the courage to touch Erik. He cried quietly as Erik kissed him with that same undeniable passion that sent an aching thrill throughout his body. Erik reached for one of his hands so that he could place it upon his chest, letting Charles feel his heartbeat. Charles could feel his cock rising to the occasion and he thought he would orgasm, just with that kiss. Erik suddenly pulled away and Charles crumpled to the floor, gasping raggedly and trembling.

Erik left him so that he could remove his articles of clothing. He placed his coat and his shirt upon the table, removed his socks and shoes and then he undid his belt. Charles slowly got up and walked over to him. Erik turned his attention to Charles as the other awkwardly reached for him to kiss him again. Charles was behaving so demurely this time that it was all Erik could do not to burst out laughing. He gently caressed Charles' head so that he could see the other's tearful gaze of longing as Charles ran his hands covetously over his torso.

"You want me to fuck you, right?"

Charles nodded, his expression hopelessly expectant. Erik released him and sat on the bed, propping himself up on his arms.

"Show me how much you want it."He murmured huskily and Charles began to unbutton the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He climbed on the bed and went towards Erik, running his hands over the other's muscular chest and began to kiss him passionately. They kissed and caressed each other and then Erik went to the head of the bed, propping the pillows up on his back and ordering Charles to undress him.

"Take my pants and underwear off, Charles."

Charles obeyed and then he turned around so that his backside was facing Erik. He seductively arched his back so that Erik would have a view of his pinkish hole. Rolling his chin over the rounded part of his shoulder, Charles gave Erik his most heated stare. Erik reached out and touched Charles' hole, already smeared and dripping with the lube Hank had injected into Charles' backside. Rashly grabbing Charles by the hips, he drew Charles' ass close, guiding the other's hole to his erect cock and then he rammed into him. Because he had not touched Charles' ass for a while now, it had tightened up again, making him wince at the strangling sensation.

Groaning, Charles' head stuttered at Erik's sudden intrusion, causing his mouth to drop open. It hurts, but it also felt good to him. Erik began to thrust his hips forward with a wild, bucking motion that it jolted Charles about violently. Erik drew Charles closer to his lap and then he used his fingers to caress and pluck at Charles' hardening nipples. Charles threw his head back and savored every delicious thrust from Erik, moaning loudly.

"Harder!"

Erik chuckled at that and grabbed roughly at Charles' arm.

"What? You ordering me around?"Erik said tightly against Charles' cheek. He still kept on fucking Charles as he did so. However, he slowed down his movements, thrusting in deeper.

Not wanting to offend Erik but so desperate for the other's cock, Charles nuzzled his face against Erik's neck, keeping his eyes closed. He rocked his hips to feel more of Erik.

"No! Please! Harder! Please, I-"

"You want it?"

Erik suddenly rammed into him harder and faster, causing Charles expression to decay into total sexual abandon. He looked so horny as his head rolled about in his intense ecstasy.

"Yes! Yes! I want it! Ahhhh! Like that!"

"You fucking slut!"Erik murmured these words into Charles' ear and Charles began to shudder violently as he orgasmed. He collapsed against Erik's chest and Erik kissed his neck and shoulders, licking at his earlobe with an obscene flick of his tongue. They were silent for a moment, waiting for the heat to pass from them and then Erik said he wanted to take a bath. He stood up from the bed, but he grabbed Charles' wrist, wanting the other to follow him into the bathroom. They both went under the shower and Erik began to wash his body. He prompted Charles to wash his own backside as well. After Charles had rinsed himself off, he stood close to the tile wall, waiting for Erik to finish bathing. Erik suddenly looked over at him and then he grinned wickedly. He went on his knees and ordered Charles to face the tile wall. He parted the cleft of Charles' ass and told him to keep his legs apart. Charles had thought Erik was going to penetrate him again, but instead of Erik's cock, he felt Erik's tongue flicking around his hole.

He didn't know why, but when it comes to Erik, his entire body became sensitive. The nerve endings around his hole came alive as Erik's tongue prodded and licked him. He moaned waveringly against the wall, nearly kissing it as his legs trembled in arousal. His cock grew hard once more. He began beating himself off as Erik ate his ass out. Erik suddenly released him and then he stood up. This time, he forced Charles to his knees so that Charles would suck him off.

Charles knew what Erik wanted him to do. However, he had never done this before. This would be the first time he would give Erik a blowjob. Erik gently touched his jaw, tracing down the line of it.

"Just relax your mouth and let me move my hips. Keep your mouth relaxed and suck it with your lips. Just watch out with your teeth, got it?"

Charles nodded and then he took in Erik's massive cock into his mouth. Erik began to buck his hips in slow, smooth strokes, but Charles still began to gag. He thought he wouldn't get used to it, but then he began to feel a strange, thrilling filling at the back of his throat. He opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue slide indecently against Erik's cock and then he heard Erik groan in pleasure. He looked up to see Erik's face crumpled in arousal, his blond hair wetly plastered to his forehead and his eyes equally desperate for release. He pulled out of Charles' mouth and began to masturbate furiously.

"Keep your mouth open. I'm going to come on your face!"Erik grunted and Charles deliriously opened his mouth, eyes heavy-lidded as he waited for Erik's come. Erik began to moan raggedly as he quickened his hand over his cock and then he pointed it at Charles' face. Charles involuntarily closed his eyes as he felt Erik's come spurting into his face. He stuck his tongue out and obscenely waggled it about, enjoying the hot and viscous flow upon his skin and drinking down some of the come. He opened his eyes slightly to look up at Erik.

"That's it, you fucking slut! Drink it up!"Erik leered out at him and Charles obeyed him. After they had washed up, Erik led him back into bed so they could continue fucking. They made love frantically, craving every part of each other that it made Charles wish that the night wouldn't end.


	8. Chapter 8

 

He had a nightmare of a blood-splattered fist coming at him, causing him to utter a ragged gasp as he sprang up from the bed, wide-eyed and terror-stricken. Even though he couldn't recall the full details of his dream, it still shook him up. His heart hammered within his chest as he flung his frightened gaze around the room and then his eyes alighted on Erik, still asleep beside him. This was the first time Erik had slept next to him in his cell. It had made him so happy to have Erik stay by his side all night long until the nightmare ruined things for him. Urging himself to calm down, Charles reached for Erik's cheek, tenderly running his fingers over the other's skin. Erik moved about, his long lashes fluttering, but Charles' touch didn't stir him awake just yet. Charles drew closer to Erik's chest, hoping that Erik's proximity would ease his troubled mind. Erik's eyes finally opened when he felt Charles sidling close to him. He placed an arm around Charles and hugged him close as he yawned.

"What's wrong?"Erik said in a sleep-slurred voice, closing his eyes once more.

"Nothing."Charles murmured against Erik's warm skin, tracing his fingers softly over Erik's chest.

Erik heard something odd in his voice. He willed himself to wake up and then he touched Charles' cheek.

"Bad dream?"

Charles couldn't lie to him. He nodded against Erik's chest, hiding his face from him. Erik lifted Charles' chin so that their gazes would meet.

"Tell me,"

Sighing, Charles nuzzled Erik's neck with his face."I dreamed that someone was punching me. I can't really remember any of it anymore."

Erik was silent for a moment and when he eventually spoke up, his voice sounded solemn."Do you know why you're here, Charles?"

Charles immediately answered him."I'm here because I've done something bad."

It seems Charles' memory of the events that occurred had become hazy and he had forgotten who had caused his incarceration at Weyland's institute in the first place. Erik even wondered if Charles had forgotten that he had raped him because Charles didn't act like a captive any longer.

"Do you recall what you've done to me?"

Charles' brow furrowed at the question and he even looked lost."I've hurt you. I got you locked up in here and it caused bad things to happen to you, but you've forgiven me despite what I've done."

Even after everything that has happened, taking him to this point in his life, Erik still couldn't get over how oblivious Charles is. Charles still didn't remember what exactly he had done. How can someone be this pig-headed and selfish? This idiot even had the gall to assume that he has been forgiven, when Erik actually had a hellish experience plotted out for him. Every kiss and every touch he gave Charles was a calculated move on his part. Even so, he was beginning to feel a mutual affection towards Charles, causing him to have these moments of conflict within his mind. This new persona Charles developed was somehow so endearing that every time they made love or kissed, a pinprick of tenderness would tug at his heart, bit by bit. He has this fear that if it continued, it might overwhelm the hatred in him. However, he had to see this farce through to its bitter end. He reached out and caressed Charles' face.

"I'm planning to go back to my house for a short leave. It's outside of the institute's proximity. I'm taking you with me."

Charles' expression brightened. He reached out to hug Erik to himself."Really? I'd love to go!"

Erik pulled back, giving him a small smile."We'll be leaving in a few days. You can pack your bags if you want to bring anything, but I can't guarantee that you'll be wearing any clothes for most of your stay."

Giggling delightedly, Charles just hugged him again and then he rained kisses upon Erik's face, causing the other to laugh. Erik rolled Charles back on to the bed to ravish him, reducing the other to indecent moans of pleasure.

When Creed entered the room that morning, it surprised him to find his superior still in bed with Charles. Charles even had Erik's shirt on while sitting upon the usually uptight and formal director's lap. Erik only had his pants on. They were hugging and gazing at each other like a loving couple. Erik reluctantly turned to look at the food brought in for Charles.

"Ah, breakfast! Bring in some more, Creed. We're starving!"Erik said as he reached for a slice of bacon, stuffing it into his mouth. He then kissed Charles while still munching on some bacon, causing Charles to laugh. Charles licked the remaining bits of bacon on Erik's lips, teasing the other's lower lip by nibbling at it.

Creed was speechless for a moment, but he eventually found his voice. "Uh, sure thing, boss. What would you like?"

Erik picked up another bacon again, feeding Charles with it."More bacon, some buttered toast, and scrambled eggs. I think Charles would like some waffles with strawberries and whipped cream-"

As Erik kept talking, he continued to feed Charles, until the other had devoured the bacon and swallowed it down. Erik pressed his fingers to Charles' generous red lips and Charles took this as an invitation to suck on them. He licked and sucked at Erik's oily fingers indecently, his hungry gaze still on Erik while Creed stared at them with wide eyes, more embarrassed for them than they were of what they were doing.

"How about sausages, Charles? You want the full breakfast?"Erik said in a low voice, pushing his fingers deep into Charles' willing throat. He only pulled back so that Charles could answer him. Charles' eyes looked drugged as if he wanted more of the indecent act Erik had done to him. He licked his lips seductively before replying.

"Ummm, yeah. I love sausages."

"You like stuffing your mouth with them, right?"Erik teased and Charles finally blushed, his eyes darting from Erik to Creed coyly. Erik laughed at his reaction and gestured for Creed to leave and bring their breakfast in. Creed made an attempt to keep his face blank, but he couldn't stop his forehead from knotting in his confusion. When Creed had left them, Erik tilted Charles' chin so that the other would face him.

"Would you like to come with me to work today, Charles?"

Charles nodded enthusiastically, beaming at him like a child. Erik traced at Charles' lips with his fingers.

"You'll be a distraction, but of course, you'll be a welcome one. Now, let's eat breakfast and then I'll leave you to get ready. I'll come around to pick you up."

When Erik left Charles' room after they ate breakfast together, he wondered about his own contradictory behavior. There wasn't any need for him to do the things he had done. He didn't need to be gentle towards Charles. He didn't need to show this much affection, but why was he doing it? It's as if he had thrown all rationale out the window whenever he touched Charles. Some small part of him conjectured that deep down, he craved for love. Because of what he had gone through, this was the only way he knew how to show it, and the new 'Charles' accepted it unconditionally. The way this 'Charles' gazed up at him lovingly, his tender blue eyes full of affection and longing, caused this bittersweet aching in his chest. It wasn't such a good idea to keep touching and pretending affection towards Charles like this after all. An unnatural attraction was developing between them. He still hated Charles, but this...how should he deal with this?

 

Since they've left the old wing—where Shaw wasn't given jurisdiction to patrol into—Charles felt uneasy, watchful of Shaw should the other make an appearance. He clung to Erik even though he had braved the passageways and corridors before looking for Erik, despite the information Hank had told him of his lover being away on a trip. Erik didn't seem to mind Charles clinging to him like this and allowed the other to hold on to him for security. When they arrived at Erik's office, only then did Charles relax. He immediately ran towards the window to get a view of the garden and the sprawling front lawn of the institute. He had not seen the skies and the outside world for some time now. He turned his attention to the room and then the smile on his face slowly withered. He did remember Erik raping him on the floor of this office. The black and white tiles reminded him of that time. He remembered the stuffed animal heads, with their dead eyes staring down at him as Erik plunged his massive cock into his hole, the other's assault tearing him and making him bleed. He remembered the pain and horror of that day. Erik watched his face closely.

"What's wrong?"

A cold ball of dread seemed to form in Charles' stomach as he closed his eyes, shivering. Erik went to him and gently touched his shoulder. Charles uttered a gasp, his eyes full of agony, a mist of sweat forming upon his wide brow. Erik nodded slowly as he held Charles' gaze in his.

"You remember what happened here."

Charles nodded, but he reached for Erik's hand, holding it in his reassuringly.

"Whatever happened that time, I deserved it. I know I've hurt you so please, let me make amends."

Erik narrowed his eyes at Charles. Although he broke Charles and made the other his willing slave, Charles' reasoning was still there. His actions may have become effeminate, but there's still some semblance of sanity in him. Erik's intention was to wipe it out entirely to fulfill his vengeance. Charles' offer of a truce didn't absolve his actions because the hate in Erik was too strong and Charles' sin was just too grave. Reaching for Charles' wrist, Erik drew Charles closer to himself, holding the other's narrow waist possessively, leering down at him.

"Oh? Do you want to make up for it? If you really want to console me, you know what to do, don't you?"

Charles gazed up at him gently despite Erik's obscene insinuation. He hugged Erik to himself and then he lifted his head to give the other a soft kiss. Erik closed his eyes and then his face scrunched up, wanting to suppress the strong feelings building within him. He led Charles towards his desk and kissed the other torridly upon the lips, forcing Charles to sit upon the desk. Erik caressed Charles' waist and thighs until Charles wrapped his legs around Erik's waist, drawing him near. The fiery kissing gave way to slow yet passionate kisses as they caressed and embraced each other restlessly. They were so engrossed with each other that they didn't notice Azazel opening the door. Azazel looked taken aback for a moment, but then he cleared his throat to get their attention. Charles tried to break the kiss, but Erik didn't stop. When Erik finally drew away at his leisure, he licked his lips and looked up at Azazel, unabashed that his lackey caught him kissing his slave so sweetly.

"Yes, what is it?"

"We have a meeting to attend to," Azazel said abruptly.

Erik gave Charles a lingering stare before facing Azazel. "I'm coming."

He released Charles and then he straightened his tie and suit while Charles pulled his rucked up shirt down and got off the table, somehow embarrassed to be seen. Erik turned impassive eyes towards Azazel, smoothing his blond hair back into place.

"I'll be along. Let me just have a word with Charles."

Azazel nodded and closed the door, giving them their privacy. Erik reached out to touch Charles' shoulder, sighing.

"I have to attend that meeting. It'll be a few hours. Why don't you go visit Hank's pet? Hank asked me if you could speak to her, to keep her company. Hank thinks she might be getting bored, that's why she's making these stupid attempts to escape. Once you're done talking with her, go back to your room and I'll visit you as soon as I'm done, alright?"

"Yes, Erik."

Erik reached out to pat his cheek once and then he left. He wasn't even concerned that he left Charles all alone in his office. He was confident that Charles wouldn't do anything underhanded and he was right. Charles just looked around innocently at the decor and then his eyes alighted on a framed picture on the desk. It was the newspaper clipping Erik had shown him before. Erik certainly made good on his promise and had this vile image of him framed and placed on his desk. He had both middle fingers up, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his expression looking mean. Charles frowned down at it. He picked up the frame and stared at his picture strangely.

_Is this really me before?_

Charles looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece of the fireplace. He reached out to touch his face. He was getting used to his clean-shaven look and Erik preferred him this way. He placed the frame face-down on the desk, repulsed at seeing his former self. He did as Erik instructed him to do. He went back to the old wing of the institute to locate Raven's tower. When he knocked on her door and she opened it, he greeted her awkwardly. Their last meeting did not end well after all. Then again, Raven did crave for some decent company and so she invited Charles into her room. Raven prepared tea good for two and sat down with Charles. They were quiet for some time until Raven broke it.

"I'm sorry about last time, Charles."

"No, it's okay. You're just feeling lonely that's why you acted that way."

Raven's forced a smile, however, her eyes told a different story. Her eyes looked despondent."Yes. Yes, I was."

They fell silent again, sipping their tea and then Charles leaned closer to her, placing his arms on the table. Raven gave him a curious stare.

"So you and Hank still haven't...um..."

"Are you asking me if we've fucked? No, Charles! Why should we?"Raven said, exasperated.

"Don't you even appreciate his consideration of your feelings?"

Raven suddenly fell silent, recalling the times she attempted to escape from Hank. She had attempted to hit Hank with heavy objects, intending to knock him unconscious, but he caught her before she could land a blow. She also tried to throw hot water at him from the stove, but he was quick on his feet and avoided it. Whenever she tried to harm him, he'd just give her a hurt stare and then leave the room. The next day, he would bring her offerings of gifts to appease her. He'd bring potted flowers or new clothes for her to wear. Sometimes he brought sweet things like cake or chocolates. Not once did he lay a finger on her. When he does spend time with her, he just sat in the same chair, where Charles was sitting now and then he would just tell her how his day went, the way a husband would discuss such things with his wife. He'd prepare the tea, since he wanted to avoid any mishaps like that time she tried to throw hot water at him. He'd ask about her day and exclaim on how well she maintained the room. Most of the time, they didn't even talk because she refused to speak to him. He would just sit and stare at her for long periods and then he'd leave.

Hank had saved her once when she almost got raped by some men from the institute whom she thought were officers. She left the tower, regardless of Hank warning her not to leave. She stupidly ran up to the officers and begged them to help her. They gave her lewd smiles and then she immediately knew what they intended to do to her. They dragged her into a patient's empty room, threw her on the bed and tore at her clothes while beating her up to subdue her. They were actually inmates dressed up as policemen and posted around the corridors outside. Hank rescued her along with a thuggish man who had an odd flat hairstyle. The thug beat up the two officers while Hank took her back to the tower, covering her with his coat and treating her bruises.

After that, she did not step out of the tower again. She stayed here, for two years, wondering if she'll ever get out of this place until she encountered Charles. She thought she could still get through to him, get him to turn to her side so that they could make their escape. However, they did something so terrible to Charles that he's behaving this way. She overheard Hank while he was over the phone once, talking about a former cop named Charles Xavier who'll be a patient at the institute. She was feigning sleep at that time. Hank had mentioned that Charles wasn't really insane, that they'll trick him into accepting their diagnosis and condition him into becoming the "director's" slave. That was how she knew about Charles. She was glad Hank didn't do the same thing to her. Even though Hank treated her well, he had abducted her and forced her to live in this godforsaken place just so he could ogle at her. He was no different from those men who tried to rape her.

She glowered at Charles because he was implying that she should be grateful Hank did this to her.

"So fucking him would show my appreciation for what he has done to me? What about you? This Erik must have fucked you then. Did he give it to you that good that you can't leave him?"

Charles remembered all the times he and Erik had sex, how Erik made him feel so good that he just couldn't stop moaning in ecstasy and his face grew flush with it.

"You have a dirty mouth, you know that? Erik makes love to me. There's a difference."

"Oh?"

Raven suddenly stood up and grabbed his wrist. She drew his sleeve away so that it would expose Charles' bruised wrist. Erik had handcuffed him at an awkward position last night while they had sex and it caused his skin to bruise. Charles quickly tried to pull away, but Raven held on tight.

"What's this then? Is this what love is like to you? He ties you up and takes you violently?"

Charles found the strength to undo her grip and glared back at her angrily."You don't understand! This is my punishment! I did something awful to Erik and this is the only way I could make up for it. I deserve this!"

"What?"Raven said, confused.

"I got him locked up here and the real Weyland hurt Erik and now I have to pay for what I've done! I've accepted it, okay? Because of what Erik did to me, I can't live without him anymore!" Charles shouted out to her.

They stared hard at each other for a minute and then they both sat back down, thinking their own thoughts. Raven didn't have a clue on what the hell Charles was talking about, but it was clear that they've made Charles think it was his fault that he was here in the first place. Raven sighed tiredly, placing a hand over her face.

"Oh God! We're fighting again and that wasn't my intention. I'm sorry. I just can't stand you equating the way he treats you with love."

Raven brought her hand down and stared at Charles intently."How can you assume that he loves you? You said so yourself. You did something terrible to him. Do you think that's something so easy to forgive? Think about it for a minute!"

Charles blinked, upset by what she had said. Nevertheless, he spoke with conviction when he responded to her.

"He does love me. Even though he's never said it out loud, I feel it. He doesn't need to forgive me to love me, you know? He just accepted me as I am, the way I have accepted him."

Sighing once more, Raven just looked away, biting back any angry retort wanting to shoot out of her mouth. Rather than getting this worked up over Charles' reasoning, she decided that she had to get him into good terms with her in order for her to escape this place. She reached for his hand once more and gave him a comforting pat.

"We've only met for a short while, but I don't want you to think less of me for saying the things I have said. Just...hold back from him a little. Think about yourself."

Charles nodded slowly, but she could tell that he refused to accept her words of counsel. They went back to drinking tea and then Raven asked if he would like to listen to some music. She played some classical music for him and when they had both calmed down, Raven began telling Charles about the circumstances that brought her to this institute.

"I'm not sure when or how it started, but I think I had this foreboding that something bad was about to happen. Back home, I began having this funny feeling that someone was watching me. It really freaked me out. My friends told me I was getting paranoid about nothing. You see, I was living alone. I don't have any family anymore. I've enrolled into a university all by myself, doing part-time house-sitting as a job. It all started when I found red roses placed on my doorstep. I shouldn't have picked them up, but at that time, I thought they were from a secret admirer."

"I began to get more odd gifts and no one I know admitted to sending me those things. Then one day, as I was walking home at night, someone just snatched me up from the sidewalk, into a moving van. I was confused and things were happening so fast. Someone sprayed a chemical into my face and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in this tower already. I looked out the window and I saw that I wasn't in the city anymore, that I'm somewhere remote. That was the first time Hank showed his face to me."

"He told me he saw me while he was attending a convention at my university and he said it was love at first sight for him. He said he couldn't get me out of his mind and he wanted to get to know me...by abducting me against my will and keeping me a prisoner in this tower. Of course, he said it with flowery words at that time, but I was furious with him. He's never hurt me, but he's one of them, and I don't know when he'll suddenly drop the mild-mannered act and do something to me."

"You're wrong about him,"Charles said sitting next to her on the rug by her bed. Raven quirked an eyebrow at him.

"He's different from the other inmates. When I first got here, he took care of me. He was a good friend and he listened to what I had to say like a reasonable man would."

"His actions aren't completely reasonable, you know. He's crazy like the rest of them! He's monitoring my room and he's watching my every move. I know because I tried to kill myself several times, but then I'd get knocked out by some gas released in the air before I could do anything further." Raven said angrily. She looked up at the cameras overhead and gazed directly at one of them with a deathly glare.

"Have you tried to listen to Hank? Maybe if you just listened to what he was saying, you'd know if he's for real or not."

"What's the point? What's the point of me listening to him?"

Charles stared at her earnestly."Then you'd know if he really does love you. Then maybe, just maybe...you could reason with him and he'll let you go."

The silence between them lengthened and after that, Charles had to leave her. He made a promise to Erik and he intended to keep it. As he walked back to his cell, he thought about the things Raven said to him. Although she was antagonistic, he knew she was only behaving this way because of her uncertainty. Furthermore, she's too close-minded. He somehow felt sorry for Hank because he loves someone who does not love him back. Things are different between him and Erik. Even though they had a rough start, Charles was truly convinced that Erik loves him.

 

Owing to his lengthy incarceration, Charles had become wary of the outside world. Even stepping outside of the institute made him feel vulnerable. He stuck himself to Erik like glue, pressing his face to the other's chest and hiding from the prying eyes of the guards and orderlies that stared at him. Once they were some distance from the facility, Charles finally relaxed and enjoyed the cool breeze of the countryside from the open window of Erik's car. Further into the hills and hidden from view, the institute has its own little suburban community for the staff of the institute. Hank had once explained to him that it wasn't like this before until Erik pushed for progress and made everyone's life easier.

Erik drove the car and gave Charles a sideways glance. Charles had remained silent during their short trip and behaved so well that it pleased him. Erik said he lived in a house, but Charles recalled Hank telling him that Erik lived in a mansion, complete with wrought-iron gates and a circular driveway with a fountain. His home did indeed look palatial and well-tended. Charles followed Erik timidly into the mansion and to his shock, they found Sean Cassidy in there, using a rag while polishing the staircase.

"Master! Welcome back!"Sean called out and then he gave Charles a knowing smile.

Charles turned questioning eyes towards Erik and the other understood immediately what he wanted to know."He's my housekeeper, Charles. That's the job he wanted when I offered to give functional inmates something to do."

Bending close to Charles, he whispered something more into his ear."He's got a shoe fetish. I've kept my shoes locked away. You'll have to do the same. He has a tendency of pilfering shoes whenever no one's looking."

"Oh," Charles said, startled by this bit of information. Now that explained Sean's behavior and the loss of his shoes from before.

Erik led Charles into the mansion, showing him around to familiarize himself with the rooms and the amenities from within. The mansion's decor was minimalist yet elegant. Charles noted that most of the items in the house must cost thousands of dollars despite its simplicity. Next, Erik led Charles into his bedroom and the first thing out of Erik's mouth was to order him to strip.

"Take your clothes off and get on the bed."

Charles took off all his clothes and did as Erik asked, climbing on to the bed and lying down on his back. He suddenly felt conscious of Erik's eyes roving over his nakedness that it sent a burning thrill throughout his body. He shivered, demurely closing his legs together so that Erik wouldn't see his hard on. He turned away to hide his face from Erik's view, knowing that his cheeks had become flushed with both arousal and mortification. He heard Erik chuckle softly.

"Does it turn you on when I look at you, Charles? Don't close your legs. Show me."

Trembling more out of excitement than fear, Charles parted his legs slowly. Showing Erik his erect cock already dripping with pre-cum from the tip. He couldn't hide the sudden tears that coursed down his blushing cheeks. Erik was sitting on the bed, propped up on his arms as he gazed at Charles hungrily. Charles' pale and nearly hairless body felt exquisite underneath his palm. He particularly liked touching Charles' smooth inner thighs and his velvety cock. Charles' muscled chest, with the pert pink nipples swollen with arousal also roused a strange covetousness in him. Moreover, Charles' hips caused his cock to stir angrily within his pants. There's just something erotic in the way it curved and dipped. Erik licked his lips slowly and lightly caressed Charles' hips, making Charles gasp and shudder, his expression agonized. Tears spilled further down his face, yearning for Erik to take him.

"Why are you crying? Are you hurting somewhere?"Erik said throatily, his hand slowly trailing down to Charles' ass, squeezing at its plumpness.

Charles nodded weakly, his expression wounded.

"Where does it hurt?"Erik whispered.

Reaching for Erik's hand, Charles placed Erik's burning palm against his equally burning chest, right where his heart is.

"Here,"Charles said softly and then he guided Erik's hand towards his belly. "And here,"

Erik could feel Charles' skin prickle with goosebumps at his touch and he turned his hand around to trace Charles' belly with the back of his hand, fingers stroking and trailing down seductively. Charles gasped again, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself crying out. Erik suddenly grasped Charles' cock, causing the other to start up in shock, eyes going wide.

"How about here? Does it hurt here?"

Charles couldn't help it when he canted his hips up so that his cock would receive the pleasure of Erik's touch, as if he wanted Erik to give him a handjob. He turned his head away, sobbing and clutching frantically at the pale blue satin sheets beneath his feverish body. He lifted one arm over his head and grabbed restlessly at a pillow, uttering breathy moans.

"Well? Answer me!"Erik teased as he squeezed down hard upon Charles' cock, causing Charles to utter a strained groan.

"Yes! It hurts! Hurts so bad!"Charles said quickly, desperate for Erik to do even more wicked things to him. He jumped slightly when he felt Erik's finger caressing the crack of his ass, slowly pressing down on his sensitive hole.

"What about here? Does this hurt as well?"

Charles could only nod wordlessly at this point, openly sobbing now. He couldn't understand where this aching and hungering for Erik came from. Every time Erik touched him, he gets so messed up in the head that he couldn't think of anything else but fucking. Erik still had his clothes on, but not for long. He's wearing a black turtleneck and dark gray pants that day and Charles had thought he looked so handsome that it was enough to make Charles shoot his wad just staring at him. Erik unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, finally removing all his clothes. He turned Charles around so that he could fuck him from behind. Looking over his shoulder and biting on his lower lip in anticipation, Charles parted his legs for Erik. A small rill of pre-cum trailed down Charles' inner thigh and that was enough to make Erik lose control.

With no preparations whatsoever done to Charles' hole, Erik spat on his own hand and gave himself a quick slather of spit and pre-cum before entering Charles. Mouth hanging ajar at the sudden intrusion, Charles' eyes grew hazy with lust as he felt his hole filling up with Erik's massive length. He used to think it was disgusting, but now he can't get enough of Erik's cock. Especially when Erik hits his sweet spot. Erik knew exactly what he wanted and he began to build up a rhythm as he pounded right against Charles' prostate.

"Oh God!"Charles cried out deliriously, shivering and moaning in pleasure.

Erik grabbed Charles' waist and slammed even harder into him, jostling Charles violently and almost causing him to lose his balance. Charles propped his hands out and he steadied himself against Erik's onslaught. Erik kept right at it, blearily staring down at Charles' pale back arching erotically with each thrust from him. He suddenly broke their union and forced Charles to sit upon his lap, wanting Charles to face him as they fucked. Charles drunkenly placed his arms around Erik's shoulders, moaning helplessly and rocking his hips for more, their sweat-slick bodies burning, each against each. His head rolled about restlessly as Erik rammed into him ferociously. Charles threw his head back as he delved for it. He was peaking, reaching that white-hot place that made him lose all control. There's something different about Erik today. He faced Erik again and stared at him closely. Erik had always been so stoic when they made love.  He'd occasionally groan and close his eyes, but today, Erik's expression looked so passionate, his face full of his hunger and longing. He was even...crying.

Charles embraced him tightly and gently kissed his face, as if to comfort him. Erik began to slacken the pace, thrusting slowly and deeply into Charles instead, letting the other feel every inch of him. The ecstatic cries coming from Charles' mouth told him how much Charles was feeling it. He kissed Charles back sloppily, his tongue sliding into Charles' mouth and Charles sucked on his tongue seductively, nibbling on his lower lip and it just about drove him insane with want. He rolled Charles down on to the bed and began to fuck him wildly again. Just when Charles thought he couldn't peak any higher than this, he was reaching a height of sexual pleasure he never thought possible. They've fucked so many times, but only Erik shook him to his core like this. Erik grabbed Charles' legs and just kept on spending and throwing his fuck into him. He was going faster and harder and he could see Charles already coming beneath him, but he kept right at it until he had released the heat from within his body. He stiffened for a moment as his come spurted within Charles' maddeningly tight depth.

Jumping slightly as he felt Erik's come spilling hotly into him, Charles could only gasp and wordlessly stare up at Erik's face, too overwhelmed by his own climax. Erik collapsed on top of him, gasping and sweating against his shoulder. Charles could feel the thundering of Erik's heart against his own chest, their heat and sweat mingling, along with their love juices beneath. Charles tenderly reached for Erik's cheek and drew him close for a kiss. He wiped away at Erik's tears and Erik rolled on to his side so that he could return Charles' embrace. They didn't even bother eating. There was a knock at the door, but they both ignored it. They made love for hours, until they were too exhausted to fuck, but they couldn't stop touching or kissing each other. Night eventually came and then they just fell asleep.

Erik woke up with a start when he felt around the bed and he sensed that Charles wasn't by his side. He looked around the room, and he couldn't understand this frantic feeling in his heart when he thought that Charles might have left him, but Charles was just at the balcony, gazing up at the starlit sky. He was naked and he stood as still as a statue. He didn't even care for the cold night air. Erik carried a blanket and went to Charles, wrapping the blanket around him.

"Why are you out here? It's freezing!"

Charles turned around so that he could press his face and his body against Erik. Erik ruffled at his hair and he found it somewhat amusing that this former cop could be so fragile and affectionate. Charles hugged him tightly and murmured against his chest.

"I had a different dream this time. I dreamed that you left me."

Erik kept on smoothing his hair down and hugging him, as if trying to cosset the other.

"Shhh! It was just a dream."

Erik made it so Charles would look up into his eyes and he could see that Charles was crying. The dream shook him up that much. He thought up of something strange to say to Charles.

"Charles, don't tell anyone what happened today. It's our little secret and one other thing,"

He bent close and whispered into Charles' ear."I won't ever leave you. You and I, we're at a deadlock...in life and death."

Charles was glad that Erik wouldn't leave him, but he couldn't understand what Erik meant by a deadlock. Besides that, why would Erik ask him to keep today a secret? Erik's men were well aware of the relationship between them, so what was different about today? Erik's words somehow gave him a measure of comfort but likewise, Erik's words also confused him. He didn't care. As long as he had Erik's affection, that was all that mattered. He reached for Erik's cheeks and kissed him. He closed his eyes as he savored the kiss, but he didn't see Erik glowering down at him.

 


End file.
